


Finding Volpina

by Keeper_ofaRestlessHeart



Series: Finding Volpina-verse [1]
Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: After the most recent season 2 spoilers lets just say that this fic is SUPER CANON DIVERGENT, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bee!Chloe, Chloé gets a redemption arc, College roomates, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, F/M, Gen, Miraculous gang unintentionally travel the world, More like a completely alternate reality, Peacock!Nino, Pre-reveal (via lots of flashbacks), Slice of Life, The world of high fashion, These kids text A LOT, cannon divergence from season 1, post-reveal, they also talk about food all the time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-27
Updated: 2017-08-23
Packaged: 2018-07-27 01:50:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 26
Words: 173,871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7598809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Keeper_ofaRestlessHeart/pseuds/Keeper_ofaRestlessHeart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Um, guys, I think we just broke a miraculous,” Chat Noir said. The three other miraculous users turned their heads sharply and stared.</p><p>A.K.A. Defeating Hawkmoth was just the beginning.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Move-In Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hadn't published fic in years... and then Miraculous Ladybug hit.

Three days into what was predicted to become a move-in week, Marinette’s phone buzzed while she was picking up a bag of cotton batting. She wouldn’t stuff the throw pillows she was planning to make for their couch with feathers even if _someone_ wasn’t allergic. Cotton batting was cheaper anyway.

The eighteen-year-old set the plastic bag back on the self and dug through her bag. Tikki pushed Marinette’s phone into her hand from inside the tote which, with the way Marinette dumped everything unceremoniously, might as well have been a fourth dimension.

“Thanks, Tikki,” she whispered. She had gotten a text.

**[Chloé Bourgeois @ 14h11]**  
**Can Adrien be my plus-one to the gala Daddy insists I attend tonight?** **I would take Sabrina, but she has to visit her grandparents for the weekend.**  
**I would ask you, but I believe Adrien needs the distraction more.**

Marinette’s brows furrowed together slightly as she typed a response.

**[Marinette Dupain-Cheng @ 14h12]**  
**You think attending a fancy party will put Adrien in a good mood?**

**[Chloé Bourgeois @ 14h15]**  
**No. But it would be a good excuse as to why the famous model Adrien Agreste declined going to his father’s own dinner for the fashion press tonight.**

Gabriel Agreste was hosting some event to commemorate the opening of his flagship London store. There were all kinds of wild speculation as to why Adrien was not attending. The short answer was Adrien’s busy schedule between photoshoots and moving into his new apartment. The real reason was also responsible for the dark circles under his eyes and the lost expression he often wore when Marinette caught him staring off into space.

“The makeup and lights will cover up any flaws,” Adrien had said that morning when Marinette expressed concern. “I’ll look _purr_ -fect.” As if it had been his modeling career Marinette had been worried about.

They had figured out Gabriel Agreste was Hawkmoth “an obnoxiously long time ago” (as Alya put it) before they had managed to orchestrate a way to defeat him. Knowing may have cushioned the blow a little bit, but Adrien was still not fully prepared for the aftermath.

_No one could have ever been prepared,_ Marinette thought. Finding out your father was the supervillain you spent most of your teen years fighting. That he was a person capable of such destruction and malice, in addition to the callousness you were already used to. In her opinion, Adrien was handling it better than most people would in his situation, even if he wasn’t doing well. He had firmly requested his own apartment while he attended _École normale supérieure de Paris_. Gabriel, in an oddly subdued manner, had let Adrien move out as soon as he graduated from _lycée_. Apartment hunting and finalizing details had taken about a month, which was why it was only now, at the start of July, that Adrien and Marinette were finally picking out furniture and grocery shopping for their new apartment.

(Marinette had brought up the possibility of moving out for university at the start of _terminale_ , and the idea of living with Adrien as early as December of her final year of _lycée_. On the former, her parents were nonchalant about. On the latter, they were slightly concerned, but a few thoughtful conversations with Alya and Adrien were all it had taken for them to agree to the idea.)

Despite the state of things, Marinette was still giddy about the idea of _living_ with Adrien. In the same loft. Yesterday, Marinette had learned how truly awful he was at using a coffee pot. Marinette wasn’t going to let Adrien live that one down for a while. To be fair, Marinette had tripped getting from her parents’ bakery to the apartment this morning, and partially squished the box of croissants she had been carrying.

They had laughed about it, and for those few minutes Adrien had looked neither haunted nor sad. Later, Tikki would tell her that Adrien seemed to wither a little when the moment had passed, and Marinette had turned to get orange juice from the fridge.

Adrien had told her that today’s shoot would end by four. Adrien would likely return to the apartment with his makeup removed, the dark circles prominent on his pale skin.

**[Marinette Dupain-Cheng @ 14h18]**  
**I’ll see if I can get him to pretty up for you.**

**[Chloé Bourgeois @ 14h23]**  
**Great! I’ll have the car come at 7. The event starts at 8, at Le Grand. I’ll bring dinner. What is the address of the new place?**

Marinette texted it to her.

\--

If someone had informed her fifteen-year-old self that within three years, Marinette would be close friends with Chloé Bourgeois of all people, Marinette would have laughed in their face. Ladybug and Chat Noir revealing their identities to each other, a couple more miraculouses showing up, and defeating Hawkmoth, Marinette would have been more likely to believe. Considering all of those things, and more, had actually happened in her three years of _lycée_ , Marinette was halfway convinced she was the person the universe wanted to surprise most.

She mentioned her proposed relationship with the cosmos to Alya after she had texted Adrien the details. (Adrien was most likely still shooting, as he hadn’t responded yet.) Marinette then texted Alya about what she was almost certain would be Adrien’s plans for the evening. Marinette rolled her eyes at Alya’s response.

**[Alya Césaire @ 15h16]**  
**Oooh, what food is B bringing?**

**[Marinette Dupain-Cheng @ 15h17]**  
**Don’t know, but knowing her, it’ll be expensive.**

Marinette was at a fabric store across town, feeling two different swatches of emerald green velvet when Adrien finally responded.

**[Adrien Agreste @ 16h11]**  
**My lady, what kind of person sets her boyfriend up on a date with another girl? This kitten is slightly offended.**  
**[Adrien Agreste @ 16h12]**  
**I told Chlo you wanted salmon with your dinner order.**  
  
**[Marinette Dupain-Cheng @ 16h14]**  
**Oh my god. What is she bringing? A five-course meal as take-away?**

**[Adrien Agreste @ 16h15]**  
**:P**

Adrien continued to text her an onslaught of emojis, which made her phone buzz continuously as she asked for a cut of her choice velvet, paid for it, and headed home.

When she got to the loft (having gotten slightly lost only once on the way), Adrien was in the shower. She put away all the supplies in her bedroom, which doubled as a work space. The room contained two chairs, a table, a dress form, and an open sketchpad. She had her main sewing machine on the table, although the serger and the special one she used for heavier fabrics was still in her old room at her parents’ place. They would be moved here by the time Marinette started the fall semester at _École de la chambre syndicale_. Probably. Her parents’ threat to keep those two machines hostage in order to encourage her to visit them may have been half serious.

When she opened the fridge, she noticed a box of tarts from her parents’ bakery and smiled. Adrien must have picked them up on the way back.

Adrien came out of the shower wearing his boxers and a white tank top. They ate the tarts on the floor out of fear for their white couch and talked while Tikki and Plagg enjoyed cookies and Camembert.

The pair heard the sound of a car pulling up outside their apartment at 7:10, and Chloé was knocking on their door a few minutes later. She was carrying a large white paper bag in one hand, and a small black clutch in the other. She was wearing a strapless black evening dress with a sweetheart neckline, but had a four-centimeter-thick stack of diamond and gold bangles on her left wrist. She wore a set of diamond earrings and with a matching necklace, along with a diamond barrette in her hair, which fell in loose blonde waves to her waist. As Chloé shut the door behind her she wrinkled her nose and made a disapproving noise.

“The gala starts in less than an hour and you are literally in your boxers, Adrikins,” Chloé said as her own kwami, Raafa, flew out from underneath her dress to join Tikki and Plagg.

“Shoes off at the door,” Marinette reminded Chloé as she took the white bag and put it on the kitchen island. The apartment did not have a separate living room and kitchen, but one large open space, with the kitchen on one side, and a couch and coffee table on the other. The couch was pushed back against the wall, and faced the kitchen island.

Chloé kicked off her gold stilettos and joined Marinette while Adrien went off to change.

“When you said you would get him to pretty up, I thought you meant you would get him ready. Not that you would merely get him willing to do it,” Chloé commented as she sat down on one of the raised black stools and pulled out three rectangular tins sealed with foil. The tins were about the size of a lunch tray, and eight centimeters in height. The foil peeled away to reveal four smaller paper trays of different sizes. The largest one contained the main course. There was also a tray for greens and one for two pieces of focaccia bread. The smallest tray contained a handful of berries and three chocolate truffles. Two of the meals had salmon for the main course, and the third had steak.

“I was going to get him dressed up, but we lost track of time,” Marinette apologized earnestly as she got the silverware out.

“ _Oh really?_ ” Chloé drawled as her thumbs moved rapidly across her phone, which she had dug out of her clutch.

Marinette felt her face flush. “Not what I meant.” She passed Chloé a knife and fork and sat across from her on the island. “We just talked.” Chloé had claimed the steak dinner and started cutting into it once she had set the others across from her. Marinette sent a picture of her own salmon to Alya with the caption _Not quite five courses._

“And?” Chloé prompted after a few minutes. They were a mismatched pair, with Chloé dressed to the nines while Marinette was in the denim skort and white T-shirt she had worn all day. To their old classmates from _lycée_ and _collége_ their seemingly-sudden kinship made no sense. Yet a glance at the three kwami across the room confirmed to Marinette that despite Chloé’s vanity, pretentiousness, and self-absorption, she cared in all the ways that mattered, and would help in all the ways that counted.

“He’s okay. Today was okay.” Marinette shot up as she remembered to get glasses of water. “My day was okay too, which means my weekend is going to suck. I spent time I could have been beading shopping instead.” Marinette explained how she had gotten distracted at the fabric store, which she had originally entered following orders from her boss to pick up an order of cloth, when she had gotten the idea for the pillows. Because her work with Balmain was largely self-scheduled, as long as she got the projects done in time, Marinette had dropped the order off at the studio and spent the afternoon thinking through her idea. It resulted in a thinner wallet, a new side project, and a custom-order haute-couture gown to finishing beading by noon on Monday, when the person who did the last touches (whom Marinette had yet to meet) was due to come in. “I might have to head over to the shop after dinner.”

“You are going to spend Friday night _working_?” Chloé asked in mock horror.

“Some of us don’t have jobs lined up prior to even attending university,” Marinette quipped. She set the glasses of water down. “Some of us need experience.” Alya and Marinette had both gotten internships for the summer: Alya working at a newspaper, while Marinette was at Balmain. Alya told Marinette her job at the newspaper mostly consisted of getting people coffee, and the Ladyblog was better paying at this point, because it was an actual source of income. “Here’s to proving my point,” Marinette added, and she showed the text she had just received from Alya responding to the picture of Marinette’s dinner and its caption.

**[Alya Césaire @ 19h22]**  
**Close enough. Do hope you enjoy it while I am stuck at the office digging for sources last minute because one of the actual field researchers screwed up.**

“ _I_ need experience compared to the two of you,” Chloé shot back. “Daddy won’t let me do anything at Le Grand until after I finish at least a semester at HEC. It’s basically set that I will take over the hotel for him, yet it’s like he keeps waiting for me to change my mind.” Chloé stabbed her steak with her knife and started cutting.

“Yeah, must suck that your first experience working will be as the person in charge,” Marinette commented dryly. Chloé had gotten into the elite business school with a combination of hard work and her father’s connections. To be honest, Marinette had doubts about if Chloé would fare well in the hyper-competitive environment. She supposed they would all find out soon enough.

Marinette was texting a reply to Alya as Adrien came out of his bedroom in a black tux, although he wasn’t wearing shoes and his bow tie hung loose off his neck.

“You know perfectly well how to tie a bow-tie,” Marinette admonished.

“I wanted to eat,” Adrien said as he slipped into the chair to Marinette’s left. He popped a piece of bread into his mouth and turned so that he was facing Marinette.

“Mhmm,” Marinette said as she did the tie in a few seconds and then smoothed his lapels.

Chloé and Adrien stuffed their faces when they realized the time. Marinette had been to enough fancy parties as Adrien’s date to have picked up on a few of the rules. One of the most important ones was to have dinner before going. The late-night parties served only hors d'oeuvres and whatever you could get at an open bar. There was hardly ever any real food. Marinette remembered one she attended where the two of them had left in the middle of the event through the roof, transforming into Paris’s beloved heroes to get halal food at a truck parked ten blocks away because they both hadn’t eaten prior for different reasons. Chloé, despite the efforts of most of their friends, remained skeptical about the concept of “food trucks,” or any sustenance that could be bought for less than ten euros.

When it was 7:25, Plagg retreated into Adrien’s pocket, and Raafa under Chloè’s dress. Etiquette also required the guests arrive by car, which Marinette thought was ridiculous for this event because the new apartment was a fifteen-minute walk from Le Grand.

Chloé put her hands on Marinette’s shoulders and kissed both her cheeks airily after putting her stilettos back on. When she was halfway out the door Adrien snaked his arm around Marinette’s waist and kissed her full on the mouth. Marinette deepened the kiss for a few seconds before pulling away. Their foreheads touched as she looked into his green eyes. “You go have fun. I’ll see you on patrol.”

“I love you,” Adrien said casually as he turned to leave.

“I love you too.”

When the door shut Marinette called to Tikki. “Any change?” she asked.

Tikki shook her head sadly. “It’s been months since what happened with Hawkmoth, and things still seem off. We were discussing it earlier. Raafa thinks the problem might not fix itself.”

Marinette sighed and went to fetch her bag. Ancient magic and its unpredictable consequences be damned, she had 5000+ Venetian glass beads to attach to silk and less than three days to do it. She walked to the shop in twenty-five minutes and scanned her ID card to get through the doors. Her designated space (and prison for the immediate future) was on the fifth floor, accessed by elevator. She turned on the lights in her corner, but the rest of the floor remained dark. The fifth floor was an open workspace with 26 sewing machines (Marinette had counted), two sergers, and at least 48 dress forms. (Marinette kept losing track when counting. It didn’t help that the forms kept traveling between the fifth, sixth, and seventh floors.)

Marinette’s corner had one dress form. Black silk was already draped onto it. A box of red-tinted beads laid ominously next to rows of thread and a pincushion full of needles.

Marinette checked her phone. She had one message from Alya, who was most likely too busy to text at the moment. When Alya got into her research she got really intense and tuned out the rest of the world. Chloé had sent her pictures of the food at the party. Adrien had texted her that they had arrived, and that Plagg had eaten three pieces of cheese larger than the kwami’s head already. _He’s joking around like usual, and his father’s in a different country at the moment. There is nothing to worry about,_ Marinette thought.

“Marinette,” Tikki warned, flying out of her bag. “Don’t you have something to do?”

“Yes, yes” Marinette said, getting to work on the dress.

\--

In a ballroom of Le Grand Paris, Adrien was making rounds as he had been trained to since he had started modeling. Guests were still arriving when the pair walked in. Chloé must have chosen to come early instead of fashionably late because it would mean dealing with most of the people, particularly the self-important ones who always arrived late, for a shorter amount of time. Adrien had been tired of the glitz and the glamour of parties like this one about thirty seconds into attending his first. Chloé had gotten sick of it eventually as well. But her eyes had lit up and she had stood a little straighter when her father, Mayor Bourgeois, had called her over and talked about “his darling daughter” with pride. Mayor Bourgeois had talked to Adrien earnestly and warmly too, mentioning what a fine man he was growing up to be. Chloé and Adrien had been separated as soon as they arrived, both approached by different people. Adrien was caught up in responding to the compliments of a distinguished fashion editor who was at the party with his politician wife right after the Mayor had spoken to him. He didn’t have time to dwell on whether or not his own father had ever said he was proud of him, a statement Chloé’s father and Marinette’s parents said so easily.

Two hours of talking to a continuous stream of other guests was made bearable by frequently texting Marinette and Nino. Nino responded regularly, but Marinette didn’t, which meant she was probably absorbed in her latest project. Plagg was off stuffing his face with cheese. At this point Adrien trusted the cat to hide under the table, out of sight, while helping himself.

A girl in a bright red dress came up to Adrien with flushed cheeks. Adrien knew from having Marinette as a girlfriend and years of listening in on his own make-up artists and stylists talk that the dress washed out her pale coloring and platinum bob.

“You’re Adrien Agreste, the model,” the girl said.

“Yes,” Adrien said meekly.

“Oh, I knew it,” the girl said, batting her eyelashes. The girl stepped closer and Adrien back away automatically, but she was unphased. “Where’s your date? It’s such a shame…” The girl’s words were tuned out as Adrien texted Nino while largely maintain eye contact (another convenient trick he had picked up). His lack of attention was ignored as the girl kept talking.

“I did come here as someone’s plus-one, actually,” Adrien interrupted. “I am flattered you recognized me, but…” The girl was gesturing to someone across the room. While her head was turned Adrien glanced down at his phone.

**[Adrien Agreste @ 21h24]**  
**And now a very determined female stranger has approached me and I don’t know what to tell her without seeming rude.**

**[Nino @ 21h26]**  
**Dude, you are like the most awkward, sorry excuse for an eighteen-year-old boy I have ever met. Yet, you are literally a model and a superhero.**

**[Adrien Agreste @ 21h27]**  
**Help?**

**[Nino @ 21h28]**  
***Sigh.**  
**Just keep smiling with those perfect teeth. I’ve already called the cavalry for you.**  
**Is she cute, at least?**

Before Adrien could respond he heard someone call his name from behind, then hook an arm through his right. “Adrien, oh, you won’t believe,” Chloé began to say before deliberately pausing and turning to the girl in the red dress with a dazzlingly smile. “Hello there. I’m sorry. I’m going to have to borrow him for a moment.”

Adrien allowed himself to be dragged to the open bar. Once they got there, Chloé whipped out her phone and sent a message before presenting her phone screen to Adrien. It was open to her texts with Nino.

**[Nino @ 21h27]**  
**B, please go help our boy be less of a human disaster.**

**[Chloé Bourgeois @ 21h30]**  
**Done. Why haven’t we established a code phrase for getting Adrien out of talking to fangirls yet?**

“Any ideas for a code phrase?” Chloé asked as she grabbed two champagne flutes from a passing waiter and downed both of them, one after the other.

“Are you okay?” Adrien asked.

“I’m always perfect,” Chloé responded as she grabbed his arm. “Red dress is still looking our way. Let’s go out to the balcony.”

Adrien let himself be moved to the small, circular balcony that gave them a third-story view of the street. They moved off to the side and stood by the curtain. Chloé remained focused on her phone. Adrien enjoyed the cool night air and, without really thinking about it, texted Marinette an update.

He was surprised to get a response almost immediately.

**[Marinette Dupain-Cheng @ 21h33]**  
**I have a dress to work on, and in the last two hours I have received over FIFTY texts.**

Adrien frowned, then turned to Chloé. “Who are you texting right now?”

“Marinette,” Chloé said. “I’m telling her about how you’re a dork, Adrikins.”

Adrien sighed. At this point, Chloé used the old nickname expressly to annoy him. Adrien leaned against the railing of the balcony and crossed his arms. To be honest, Adrien was glad for the opportunity to catch up with his childhood friend. Despite how awfully she had acted towards him and everyone else, especially Marinette, Chloé was, for the longest time, the only person his age he had to play with. She understood the pressure that came with high society without explanation because she came from the same world, and Adrien was glad that their long-time acquaintance had developed into a genuine friendship in _lycée_.

“I was talking to a few girls in there and it reminded me of how I basically had my life planned out for me. How I would have been a socialite and then the wife of someone important,” Chloé said as she moved closer. They were standing shoulder to shoulder, their backs to the street as they leaned against the railing. Past the curtains and the balcony doors, the bright lights that reflected off the crystal chandeliers were visible. Adrien spotted a few girls and guys close to their age, including Red Dress, milling around the room with the significantly older brood. Chloé must have talked to nearly all of them while hanging off her father’s arm.

Adrien turned his head. “Hey Chlo, how much did you have to drink before the two flutes of champagne?”

“Huh?”

Raafa answered from under Chloé’s dress. “She had an apple martini, two shots of vodka, some scotch, and ice tea before the champagne.”

“You didn’t try to stop her?” Adrien’s voice was incredulous, but he was careful not to move, lest someone spot him talking to what would look like the hem of an evening gown.

“I suggested the ice tea,” Raafa said.

Just then, two girls stumbled into the balcony, chatting to themselves and oblivious to the other occupants. Chloé turned so that she and Adrien were cheek to cheek, and whispered into his ear, as to not be overheard. “If Mari hadn’t… if nothing had changed and I never picked up Raafa… all I would be is all my father wanted for me. Getting a miraculous _made_ my life. And it was all because of Mari.” A loud bubble of laughter escaped Chloé’s lips, which caused the two girls to notice they were there, giggle among themselves and leave. Chloé didn’t seem to notice. “You know,” she continued. “I’ve always loved Ladybug. But when I found out her identity, I realized _Marinette_ was the one who changed my entire life. Marinette is my hero.”

Adrien felt a flash of heat behind him and saw the blinding light of a camera flash in his peripheral vision. Le Grand swept the grounds constantly, so the paparazzi must have been hiding in the bushes across the street. Adrien felt Chloé freeze.

Adrien grabbed her arm. “Okay, you look tipsy enough to be an excuse to leave,” he said as he led her inside. “I’m going to tell the Mayor I’m taking you up to your suite before showing myself out.”

Adrien dragged Plagg away from the tray of cheese at the table of appetizers and found Chloé’s father. They kept their goodbyes as efficient as cordiality would allow. Walking off with a female friend like so would cause heads to turn and only fan the flames, but at this point, Adrien just wanted to leave.

Once they reached Chloé’s suite, Raafa flew out from under the gown and helped herself to a piece of mochi wrapped in plastic sitting on a bowl on the coffee table while Chloe unceremoniously flopped onto the bed.

Adrien answered and sent a few more texts before leaving. He went through the lobby and tried to ignore the clicks and flashes that occurred as he walked down the street. Once he found a thin enough alleyway covered in shadow, he transformed into Chat Noir.

It was nearly ten. Adrien took the rooftop route to the building he knew Marinette was working in, which only took a few minutes. He circled the building until he found the only windows on the fifth floor where the lights were on from the rooftop across the way. He launched himself onto the roof and lowered himself down to the fifth floor.

Marinette noticed the movement of shadows and glanced at the windows from behind the mannequin. She raised an eyebrow, and set down the beads she was holding in her hand. Chat Noir grinned when she opened the window.

“Why did you come in the mask? What if someone had been in the room?”

“Princess, you have to give me more credit.” Chat Noir slipped inside and sat on the floor, his cat ears peaking up above the windowsill slightly. The fact that he had to avoid cameras with and without the mask was a nuisance he learned to deal with, but one he didn’t want to subject Marinette to. As Ladybug and Chat Noir, they could remain enigmas. Marinette Dupain-Cheng had been linked a couple of times to the model Adrien Agreste, but she remained largely unknown, which all parties involved were grateful for. However, given their relationship, the fact that Adrien planned to continue modeling for at least a few years, and Marinette’s own ambitions, she would be subject to increasing amounts of scrutiny. Adrien was going to protect her from the harsh limelight for as long as possible, in all the ways he could. “I checked the entire floor before knocking.”

“Which doesn’t sound creepy at all, Chat,” Marinette teased. “Is it ten already? I wanted to get more done. Ugh, I’ll have to come back early tomorrow. Let me just finish this row.” Marinette got to work immediately. Adrien loved watching her like this: focused, with determination and fire in her eyes. Her hair was pulled into a bun and, Adrien realized, she was wearing one of his T-shirts. She exuded the same kind of confidence when she was Ladybug, but he was usually too concerned with not dying during those times to truly appreciate it.

Once Marinette had packed her bags, she turned to walk towards the elevator.

“Uh, Princess, the window?” Adrien gestured to it theatrically.

“I have to leave the same way I came in,” Marinette pointed out. “There are other people in the building who know I’m here. I need to leave out the front door like a normal person, otherwise, security is going to have issues. I also have to drop my bag off at the apartment. Close the window when you go. I’ll catch up.”

Adrien was patrolling very close to where Marinette’s parents’ bakery was when he heard the zip of a yo-yo and Ladybug behind him. With the mask on, her hair was in pigtails again, a smirk on her face as she goaded him into a race.

As Adrien sprang forward in chase, Chloé’s words from earlier resurfaced. _I’ve always loved Ladybug. But when I found out her identity, I realized Marinette was the one who changed my entire life. Marinette is my hero._

In so many ways, Marinette was his hero too. Adrien followed her.

\--

They flew across Paris. It was a quiet, clear night. The city was still on edge, waiting and wondering when the next attack would be (if only they knew). When they landed on their spot on top of the Eifel Tower, Chat Noir launched into the ongoing story Nino was texting him about regarding a nightmare sound system he was dealing with at the venue he was currently playing at. Marinette suspected that once her patrol ended at midnight, she would see a message in the group chat with all of Paris’s miraculous users from Nino, saying he would patrol at 3AM or not at all.

Ladybug and Chat Noir ended up chatting about nothing in particular until they both caught sight of a glint of gold and miniature wings. Honey Bee was standing on the rooftop of a building three blocks from the Eifel Tower. Ladybug and Chat Noir joined her.

“You’ve sobered up, right?” Marinette quipped as she and Chat Noir landed.

“Superhero metabolism,” Honey Bee replied as she turned around. The city lights illuminated the gold circlet worn around her head. On each side of the circlet were semi-translucent fixtures shaped like a pair of bee’s wings lined with silver. Chloé’s blonde hair was gathered in a single plait down her back, tied with a black ribbon. Her costume has a black turtleneck collar, and alternating black and yellow stripes. The sleeves of her outfit was also black, and extended down to merge into black gloves. The fabric on the legs of her costume was black and set with a faint honeycomb design. The slight translucency of the pattern matched the wings on the circlet. Honey Bee held a whip casually in one hand. The hair comb that contained her miraculous was lodged into the top of her braid.

“It’s been a quiet night,” Chat Noir said.

“You two go home,” Honey Bee said. “I’ll take over for a bit.”

The two obliged. Marinette was considering using the extra time to return to the workshop, but Adrien, Tikki, and even Plagg ganged up on her and told her to sleep. (“He’s much more bearable when you’re around,” the cheese-loving Kwami had said.) Marinette took a shower and retreated to her room. She checked her phone and found a message from the chat group titled MU.

It stood for “miraculous users” but if anyone asked it was named after the slightly dated Monster’s University movie. Chloé had informed them of no incidents. Nino said he wasn’t patrolling tonight. (Crime rates in Paris had steadily declined as the mysterious masked vigilantes increased in number. Alya had deliberately caused a stir speculating on the Ladyblog that there may be eight or nine masked heroes when she knew clearly well that there were only four active ones.)

Master Fu was included in the MU chatroom. For his age, he was fairly adept at technology, although he barely ever sent messages. Which was why Marinette was surprised to be jolted awake by a text from him.

**[Master Fu @ 04h10]**  
**We all must talk in person. Calling a meeting at my place by the end of the week.**

It was 4AM. Marinette threw her phone across the room (where it landed in a bin of scrap fabric) and returned to sleep. Whatever it was, she would deal with it after getting dressed.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just really wanted to give Chloé a proper redemption arc, and get out all the headcanons before they are debunked in Season 2.


	2. Contingency

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to post this chapter sooner, but in the time between getting out chapter 1 and today, I literally moved from the US to Japan... so, yeah.  
> Here it is a little late. I'm going to shoot for an update every two weeks. We'll see how well that plan goes.

MU was the chatroom which contained all the miraculous users of Paris, but the one titled “Press and Co.” was the most active. Alya and Sabrina replaced Master Fu as the fifth and sixth members of the chatroom. In it, they argued over possible meeting times. On Saturday morning Marinette read off what had been typed as Adrien made them both coffee. He had gone out and gotten free pastries from her parent’s bakery earlier that morning. Plagg had whispered to Marinette that he hadn’t slept that well last night.

“Nino has either class or work on Monday and Tuesday,” Marinette said. “I already reminded everyone about my plans until noon on Monday, which means we’ll have to meet later in the week.”

Adrien brought out the cups of coffee. “I have an all-day shoot Thursday.”

“Chloé says she has an event on Friday,” Marinette said, unsurprised.

“Would Wednesday evening work?” Adrien suggested as he gave Plagg a piece of cheese and Tikki a cookie. The kwami had been oddly quiet for the past few weeks. Thinking about their recent demure behavior made Marinette’s stomach twist. Marinette took a sip of her café au lait and made a sour face, which caused Adrien to pout.

“It’s better than before,” she said. “The milk makes it tastes better. Practice makes perfect.” She typed out Adrien’s suggestion and helped herself to a croissant. When she had one bite left of the pastry, Nino and Chloé had responded (while Alya inserted an off-topic rant about the demands of her boss).

“We’ll meet Master Fu on Wednesday at his place at seven. Nino’s already sent him the information,” Marinette said as she picked up her bag. Tikki flew to her shoulder when she saw Marinette was getting up. “I have to go to the workshop, but feel free to find me during lunch—as a civilian, mind you.” Adrien smirked.

Marinette got on her tip-toes to kiss him before heading out the door.

When she reached the studio, things were still quiet, it being the weekend, and most people budgeted their time better than Marinette did. There was only one other person on the fifth floor, whom Marinette recognized. Amalia was a woman in her forties with cat-rimmed black glasses and grey streaks in her dark hair. She held herself in a stately matter and was cordial to Marinette, if all business. Amalia had bright orange earbuds in her ears when Marinette entered. Amalia waved at her from across the room and got back to work. She was beading navy gloves, most likely for the upcoming Autumn/Winter collection. Marinette set her bag down, got out her own iPod and picked up the needle and thread.

Marinette heard tapping on her desk when she was about half done with beading the dress. She turned toward the noise to find Amalia with one earbud removed. “I’m heading out for lunch. Do you want to come?”

Marinette shook her head. “Thank you, but I want to finish another centimeter at least before I eat. Plus, I had such a late breakfast.”

“As long as you don’t forget to eat, doll,” Amalia said.

Around three in the afternoon Adrien called her and said he had a two-hour break for lunch before he had to return to the shoot. It was magazine editorial, Adrien had explained to her, but due to flight delays on the first day, all those involved would be working into the night. Tomorrow, however, they would be back on schedule, which meant Adrien still had ten hours of shooting, but he started at 9AM instead of 12PM.

“Give me a few minutes to finish up, and I’ll meet you downstairs,” Marinette told him.

When she got downstairs, Adrien was in a crisp white button down and gray slacks. Blue aviator sunglasses reflected his surroundings (the plants in the lobby and the secretary who was chatting on the phone).

“Let’s go to the food truck with the really good dumplings,” Adrien suggested. He took her hand as they walked out the door. Marinette put on her sunglasses as well. “I also think she recognized me but didn’t seem to care.”

Marinette laughed. “That’s Helene. I’ve only talked to her briefly, but it seems she’s met so many famous people throughout her career someone like Valentino could walk in and all she would ask him is what business he had and then point him in the right direction. I’ve heard she’s really good at driving some of the nastier people who walk through the door with no business there away.” Marinette found Helene’s no-nonsense attitude refreshing.

They reached the food truck and waited in line. After they had ordered their food and were waiting to pick it up by the side window, Adrien told her he would be right back. Their orders (twelve pork dumplings each, with soy sauce on the side) were ready by the time Adrien had returned with two drinks from the café across the street. They walked partway back to the workshop before stopping to sit on a park bench. Adrien handed Marinette her drink as she gave him his container of dumplings.

Marinette sipped her drink. “Isn’t it too late in the day for coffee?”

“It’s never too late for coffee.”

“You do have to make up for this morning,” Marinette teased. Adrien smiled sheepishly and checked his phone as he picked up his chopsticks and stuck a dumpling in his mouth.

“Nino finally knows where he’s working tonight,” Adrien said after he had chewed and swallowed. He continued to stare at his phone. “He’ll be DJ on some small corner of the third floor of this club in Bordeaux. His train leaves at 5.”

“Could have given him more of an advanced notice,” Marinette huffed.

Adrien’s lips quirked up sardonically. “It’s show business.”

After graduating _lyceé_ Nino had, unlike the majority of their class, opted out of going to university. Instead, he was actively trying to establish himself as a DJ. He had already played gigs here and there starting last summer. He only done a handful of shows during their _terminale_ year, but now that they had graduated he was trying to get as many gigs are possible. Marinette thought it was incredibly brave of him to attempt to forge his own path, without the backing of any institution or any real contingency plan.

The pair milked Adrien’s two-hour break for all it was worth, and then walked back to where Adrien’s photoshoot was. They snuck in through the back door. The security guard gave Marinette a glance, but decided she was harmless and allowed to be there, considering she was holding Adrien’s hand. Two other crew members walked through the room at the time, also giving Marinette a passing glance.

Adrien bent down to kiss Marinette’s cheek. They let go of each other’s hands to hug.

“If I don’t make it home before you do, you know where I’ll be,” Marinette said while her arms were still wrapped around his neck.

“Shall we make it a race or a contest, Princess?” Adrien whispered into her ear.

“Ooh, a contest,” Marinette decided. She waved in acknowledgement at the security guard and pushed open the back door.

Marinette decided to take the Metro instead of walking back, to save her half an hour’s time. She bought a cookie for Tikki along the way. Helene nodded at her on the way up. The fifth floor was empty when Marinette got there. Amalia, having worked for the label longer than Marinette had been alive, was incredibly good at her job, and likely on a long break. Marinette sighed and got back to work. With the room empty, Tikki was able fly out of Marinette’s bag and enjoy her own lunch.

“Only a couple hundred beads left,” Marinette said.

Tikki nuzzled her hand. “You can do it,” Tikki said. “You want to win the contest, right?”

Marinette blushed. Tikki had heard. Of course her kwami had heard. She was in her bag the entire time, even if she had been quiet recently. “Yeah,” Marinette mumbled as she got to work.

A race or contest was a concept Chat Noir had come up with soon after they had both found out about each other’s identities. One day, Ladybug had sent Chat Noir a message on the communicator saying she was going to be late for patrol because she had a certain history project to finish. Chat Noir knew exactly the project she was referring to, as he was working on the same one. There had been a slightly longer photoshoot after school, which left Adrien little time to work.

“We can make it a contest,” Chat Noir had called her to suggest. “Whoever finishes first gets to go on patrol—the other party will remain mysteriously absent which would give Alya something to speculate about. And then after patrol I could drop by your room to hang out. I mean, unless there’s an akuma attack.”

“O-or we can make it a race,” Ladybug had quickly proposed. At the time, she had still been trying to reconcile Chat Noir’s secret identity, and the thought of Adrien in her room still made her stutter. “See who finishes and gets to patrol first. I bet I could cover more ground than you, even if you got the head start,” Ladybug smiled shyly. “Besides, why are you talking like you’ve already won, Kitty? If we make it a contest, maybe I’ll be the one crashing your room.”

Chat Noir had grinned. “Sounds fun either way. So will it be a race or a contest?”

It had ended up being a race, which they declared a tie because even though Chat Noir had managed to get a ten-minute head start patrolling, both were convinced they had covered more ground than the other, partially because there had been some overlap.

Marinette had just the hem of the dress left to do when she got a text from Alya.

 **[Alya Césaire @ 19h25]**  
**It’s been weeks since an akuma attack. Going to write a speculative piece for the blog. Question: should I suggest the threat is finally over? What are all you Jedi meeting with Yoda about on Wednesday anyway?**  
**Oh, and how’s the dress coming?**

 **[Marinette Dupain-Cheng @ 19h29]**  
**The dress is almost finished. I should be done by tonight. The client better love the heck out of it because not only did it take up the better part of my weekend, but the garment costs more than two months of my rent.**

Marinette paused to think about the former two questions. They had defeated Hawkmoth. It was a certainty all of them, particularly Adrien, had to live with every day. However, they were all hesitant to make any sort of public announcement. Not yet. There would be interviews and press conferences. Speculations and a call for details. It would be impossible to explain how the supervillain who had plagued Paris for so long was no longer a threat without giving away too-specific information about their magic. Marinette was content to let the nature of the miraculouses remain the sort of mystery that would become an urban legend (like the haunted piano in the second music room of their _lyceé_ and the griffin in the park). Plus, Marinette was okay with Alya being the only member of the press in the world who had extensive knowledge of the powers their kwami gave them.

There was another, less compelling reason as to why Marinette wanted the city to decide for itself that Hawkmoth was no longer a threat—she wasn't certain it was really over. Master Fu had warned them of the possible consequences of tampering with ancient magic they didn't quite understand. He had been against their plan, and they had gone and done it anyway. And now, seeing Adrien so miserable while trying to pretend otherwise made Marinette question if it was for the best that they had succeeded.

 **[Marinette Duping-Cheng @ 19h41]**  
**I don't know what we are meeting about exactly. Keep speculating about the lack of akuma attacks. Work both sides. Maybe it’s over. Maybe it isn't. To be perfectly honest, I'm scared either way.**

Adrien sent her a text around ten saying the shoot had gotten out early because a grueling schedule was planned for tomorrow. The text was accompanied by a picture of a view Marinette recognized as only obtainable from their spot on the Eiffel Tower. _I win :P_ the text read.

“You'll certainly finish by the hard deadline,” Tikki encouraged. Marinette hummed in agreement. Marinette’s philosophy on assignment due dates was to finish them at least a few hours in advance so that she could have time to take a break and then scrutinize the finer details of the project. She was nearly finished when she got the text from Adrien. When Chat Noir slipped through the fifth floor window a couple hours later (as it had been deliberately left unlocked for him), Marinette was cutting the base on a gray jumpsuit that would be part of the pre-spring/summer collection.

Chat Noir de-transformed and circled the dress. “It looks great,” he said earnestly. “You're working on a new project already? Why don’t you go home and get some proper sleep?”

Plagg flew out of Adrien’s shirt pocket and cackled. “She’s following the terms of your agreement,” Plagg realized. “Because she has honor.”

Marinette laughed. “Because the work never ends. You know the industry better than I do.”

Adrien tilted his head to the side. “Sometimes it seems that way, doesn't it? After you finish one project there is simply the next one. Even if you’re not quite sure when it will be, you know it's coming. You can never be fully prepared for it, and no matter the time in between, it always takes you a little by surprise. You’re surprised when it ends too, and never quite sure what to do with yourself.”

Marinette was sure Adrien was no longer talking about photoshoots or garment construction. She set down her scissors as she finished the cut and turned toward the table to face him. “You’re not quite sure, so you fill your time up as best you can,” she said as she met his eyes. They held hers for a few moments before looking away at Plagg, who rolled his eyes. “How was patrol?” Marinette asked, instead of asking the questions she wanted to.

“Paris was quiet. I ran into Honeybee, who asked after you, so I explained the bet. She called it adorable.”

Adrien sat in a nearby chair and kept Marinette company as she worked. He talked to Tikki and Plagg when the thrum of the sewing machine got too loud and answered texts on his phone. Even with her back sore from being hunched over the sewing machine for too long and a list of assignments from the pre-spring/summer collection she didn't want to start comprehending the size of, Marinette thought this scenario was happiness. Adrien relaxed, their kwamis floating around freely, and Marinette herself immersed in a project.

The rattle of the elevator made Marinette jump and stop the machine. Adrien stood up and looked at her with a frantic expression.

“You have to hide, all of you!” Marinette hissed. Plagg and Tikki both dove into Adrien's collared shirt which, same as when he was fifteen, was worn over a more form-fitting T-shirt. Marinette turned back and forth before pointing behind a work table where Adrien would be mostly obscured by a dress form if he ducked behind it. The desk was placed in a corner of the room that was so close to the elevator anything behind it would be easily missed by a person just walking out.

Adrien was hidden, but Marinette was standing tensely in front of her work station when the elevator opened. Amalia walked out.

“The beading looks exquisite,” she said as she passed by. “I forgot my phone here, of all things,” Amalia added as she walked towards her own desk. “I guess it must show my age as I didn't realize until I was going to charge it right before bed.”

“Did you take the metro all the way here to get it?” Marinette asked as she ran her fingers through her hair, stopping at the topknot on her head secured by a pencil she had forgotten was there.

“Oh no, my husband drove me,” Amalia said. “I'm heading straight back to go to sleep. You should too. Although I commemorate the effort.” Amailia nodded at the half-sewn jumpsuit. “Even if your friend is not allowed in here,” she added casually with another deliberate nod. Marinette stiffened, even though Amalia was smirking slightly.

Adrien rose from behind the desk guiltily. “Hi, I'm Adrien,” he said because he didn’t know what else to do.

“He wasn’t being disruptive or anything, just keeping me company. And he knows not to touch anything,” Marinette said.

“I was also trying to get her to go home and sleep at a decent hour,” Adrien added with some Chat Noir-type charm.

Amalia squinted at Adrien like she was trying to recognize the skyline of a city before she raised her eyebrows. “You’re even prettier in person,” she stated before turning to Marinette. “Take his advice. You finished what you had to for the weekend, and here's a pro-tip. If you start and finish things too far in advance, you are only going to get more assignments. I'll see you on Monday, Marinette. Nice to meet you, Adrien.”

Once they heard the sound of the elevator move down, Adrien burst out laughing.

“Amalia’s cool. She won't tell anyone you were here, I think,” Marinette mumbled, more for her own sake.

“I think it'll be fine,” Aden said, coming over to pat Marinette’s head. He leaned in so that their foreheads touched. “Plus, she gives great advice.”

With a half exaggerated sigh Marinette finished the side she was sewing, which took about ten seconds, gathered her things, and made sure to turn off all the lights before leaving the building.

It was about 1AM when she got back to the apartment, and about half an hour later when she crawled into bed and fell asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow.

Adrien stared at the ceiling fan, which was currently turned off, as he heard the faint sounds of Marinette’s steady breathing from the room next door. Usually, it was enough to lull him to sleep, but it wasn't working tonight. He thought of shifting shadows and felt pricks under his skin that he knew were all in his head whenever he tried to close his eyes.

After ten more minutes Adrien got out of bed and stretched. “Plagg, wake up,” he said, standing in front of the tiny cushion that Marinette had made. The black cushion came with a matching mini duvet and was on Adrien’s night stand.

“Do you have more cheese for me?” Plagg said groggily.

After a brief argument with Plagg, Chat Noir was patrolling the streets again. He ran from rooftop to rooftop, across the river and back again, trying not to think about how every nook and corner of the city seemed to have a memory—of an akuma attack, of Ladybug laughing at something silly he'd done, of a photoshoot for his father having taken place there—and some places held many memories. There were other, more fragmented memories that surfaced on certain spots, places his mother had liked to frequent, guiding a small Adrien by the hand as she checked out flower shops and bookstores.

When he was across the street from the botanical garden, his com rang. Chat Noir pulled out his baton. On the screen of the communicator he saw a face covered with tinted goggles. The goggles were a part of a form-fitting eye mask that fanned out on the sides into the shape of tri-feathered wings.

“Evening, Celeste,” Chat Noir said.

“Dude, it's nearly morning, what are you doing up? Wait, where are you? I'll come looking,” Nino’s voice said from what Adrien knew was the orb of his staff.

“Near Arc de Triomphe.”

Seven minutes later, Celeste landed in front of Chat Noir, his staff in hand pointed accusingly at the blond. “What’s up?”

Celeste’s costume was the most ostentatious of the four. Although it was based on the peacock brooch, “he looks like a peacock dressed up like a dragon,” Chloé described it quite accurately. The base of his suit was midnight blue, with a black turtleneck collar and his fingers completely covered in the fabric. However, Nino’s costume had a feather motif and was very busy overall. It reminded Adrien of the richly embroidered fabrics of the more ostentatious men’s kimonos. The graphic across Nino’s torso was faintly iridescent, and shone in the moonlight against the dark color of the suit. The bird and feathers both had a pattern of swirling clouds. His elbows and knees also had black padding.

Celeste’s staff was two meters long and, unlike Chat Noir’s baton, couldn’t change length. It was cumbersome to carry, but then again it allowed Celeste to actually fly, so. The staff had an iridescent peacock feather motif down its length, with a Chinese dragon’s upper body and head wrapped protectively around the glowing orb at the top of the staff. The dragon was a deep blue, while the orb resembled ice. The dragon’s eyes, which were also glowing ice colored orbs, seemed to stare at Chat Noir in judgment.

“I should be asking you that question,” Chat Noir diverted. “You must have just gotten back. How was the gig?”

Nino shrugged a padded shoulder. “Fine. Same old. I missed the suit and patrolling” Nino said. “I really did. It’s so much a part of my routine now that not doing it for even just a few days feels strange. So I went on patrol. But I know that you were on patrol earlier today. So what’s up?”

Chat Noir scratched his head. “I couldn’t sleep. I’m overthinking things. I thought patrol would tire me out.”

“What’re you thinking about?”

Char Noir stared at the cityscape for a few minutes before answering. “I was wondering if what we did to defeat Hawkmoth was worth it. If it really was the better choice.”

“Dude, would you rather be battling a new akuma every week? I didn’t even have the job for as long as you and it was exhausting. It was a real bummer knowing that no matter how much you patrolled or worked to keep the city safe, Hawkmoth would always be there to surprise you.”

“It was a lose-lose situation when it came down to it, which is what boggles me,” Chat Noir admitted. “Did we really pick the best course of action?”

Nino shook his head sadly. “You may not think of it as such, but we won, Adrien. We really did. You’ve never been akumatized, so you don’t know what it’s like to lose control of yourself, to be left with a gap in your memory and no idea what you did. It was only after I checked Alya’s blog later that I got the idea. I don’t think it was a lose-lose situation. You’re a hero, bro.” Nino put his hand on Adrien’s shoulder. Adrien’s expression quirked into a Cheshire grin, more to satisfy Nino than anything else.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here are my designs for Honeybee and Celeste's costumes. You can check it out if you want.
> 
>  
> 
> [Costume Designs](http://keeperofarestlessheart.tumblr.com/post/150466162267/the-costume-designs-for-chloe-and-nino-from-my)


	3. What I Call a Win

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know how I feel about having massive spoilers about season 2 of the show dropped by the company... It would have been so much fun to keep speculating. It would have been amazing to have the information revealed in the episodes, as they happened. Not to mention that my own theories and plans for the story are getting further and further away from what canon looks like it will be.
> 
> On that note, I'm keeping the names of the kwami as they were for now, but I might go back and change them later, when I have time.
> 
> Here is chapter 3.
> 
> EDIT: I have changed the peacock kwami's name to what it the spoilers have revealed it to be. I'm keeping the bee kwami's name as is, and probably won't change it, even if after the reveal. I had to re-wire my brain while editing/writing upcoming chapters regarding the peacock and fox kwami's actual names, but it is done, so I shall post chapter 4 very soon.

The next morning, Adrien was back in the studio by seven, and out of hair and makeup in an hour. He ignored the heat of the bright lights with a trained nonchalance and tried to look relaxed for the test shots. When the photographer started giving him more specific instructions, including “give us a serious expression,” Adrien left his mind drift. Keeping his expression slightly disdain (because high fashion disapproved of smiling, or so it was said), was simple enough.

Adrien let his mind drift to Nino’s words from the day before. _You’ve never been akumatized,_ Nino had assumed, and Adrien didn’t have the energy to interrupt or correct him at the time. He had been akumatized, in a way. Marinette had told him the story sometime before they had officially become a couple, when they were still working things out and seeing how they would do as friends. Adrien had been shocked speechless, before very loudly lamenting how Chat Noir did not remember his first kiss with his Lady.

There were several other incidents he did remember, where Chat had lost control to an akuma. Memories of those incidents were blurry but left a sickening, cold feeling in his stomach.

_I don’t think it was a lose-lose situation,_ Nino had said. Nino was probably happy that the battle was over, and Adrien didn’t blame him.

 

__

**A few weeks ago**

 

Chat Noir ran up the stairs to the attic room where Hawkmoth was currently fighting Ladybug. He heard a crash, and then a voice he would recognize without the magic as his father’s. “Where is the rest of your posse?” Hawkmoth taunted. “I want to obtain all of your mircalulouses together.”

Chat Noir heard the sharp zing of a yoyo string and another thump. As he opened the door, he saw Ladybug mid-backflip dodging an attack. Of bubbles.

“You’ll never have them!” Chat Noir leapt behind Hawkmoth, brandishing his baton-turned-spear. Hawkmoth turned towards him, and aimed a jet stream of bubbles at him. Ladybug ran over to his side.

“He can use the attack of any akuma he’s ever made,” Ladybug whispered. “But only once in a transformation. Once he switches, he can’t go back to that one. He’s already used the Mime and Princess Fragrance.”

They both leapt backwards, dodging bubbles and keeping Hawkmoth focused on them as a blur of navy followed by yellow crashed through the circular window Hawkmoth was turned away from. Before he had fully turned around, Honeybee had obliterated a swarm of butterflies with a crack of her whip. The wind from Celeste’s staff created a vacuum to prevent more butterflies from flying away.

Hawkmoth cried out in fury as he faced his other opponents. He sped forward with his hand out in a motion Chat Noir recognized as Timebreaker. Celeste and Honeybee dodged in opposite directions, and Ladybug swung her yoyo so that it wrapped around Hawkmoth’s right arm. With a tug, she immobilized it. Half a beat later, Honeybee had done with same with his left using her whip. Celeste manually wrestled Hawkmoth’s cane out of his hands, as he had used Wind Tunnel up earlier.

“Chat Noir,” Ladybug and Honeybee hissed at the same time, both bracing themselves as they struggled against Hawkmoth. Chat Noir ran between Hawkmoth and Celeste, who was holding the staff with a death grip.

“Destroy it,” Celeste said. When Chat Noir activated Cataclysm, he must have given something away on his face, because Marinette acted just as he did.

“I invoke the powers of the Quantic gods and accept the power of creation fully,” she chanted, which surprised everyone, including herself, just as Chat Noir aimed cataclysm.

Cataclysm came into contact with Hawkmoth’s head. Chat Noir pulled back after the slightest touch. The power from Cataclysm caused the entire helmet to fracture into tiny pieces as the shadowy vapor spread. Once the black energy was painted across the metal like a hundred tiny fault lines, the pieces turned into something that resembled ash and were blown away. Chat Noir’s glowing green eyes looked directly into the enraged face of Gabriel Agreste.

As Ladybug watched Chat Noir’s worst fears confirmed for one final time she heard Tikki’s voice from inside her head. Ladybug’s body was enveloped by red light, an aura around her being. She retrieved Hawkmoth’s brooch by launching her yo-yo, which was also covered in a glowing red aura. She maneuvered the string so that it wrapped around the brooch, the yo-yo dangling from the bundle of chords like an anchor. With a hard yank, Ladybug pulled the object back with the retraction of her yo-yo. One swift upward motion with her right arm sent the yo-yo, and everything tied to it, skyward. The voice that came out of her mouth was a combination of Marinette’s and Tikki’s, along with a couple others Chat Noir couldn’t identify. “Lucky Charm.”

Usually, an object appeared with white light, but this time, the yo-yo opened to a flash of blinding crimson light.

Chat Noir was still blinking rapidly, trying to regain his usual spectrum of color vision, when he watched the yo-yo, the moth-shaped brooch, and another object descend.  Ladybug caught the yo-yo and third object with one hand, while the brooch landed in the other. Ladybug stared at what had landed in her hand.

“No, no, no.” The voice was still a mesh of several, but Marinette’s own dominated now. “I can’t. Tikki, please.”

Chat Noir was immobilized by Marinette’s frantic pleas, while Celeste and Honeybee were spurred into action. Celeste ran to where Ladybug was standing. Honeybee released her hold on Hawkmoth, cracked her whip into the air and shouted “Honeycomb!” Ribbons of honey-colored light bound Hawkmoth from his knees to his neck like a mummy. From the bottom of the casing six ribbons latched onto the floor and formed the corners of a hexagon, which Hawkmoth remained stuck in the center of. Honeybee ran to join Celeste and Ladybug.

“Chat, come here.” The voice was all Marinette now, though she was still glowing red. Chat Noir shook his head and left his father to writhe and seethe. The bindings held.

Cupped in Ladybug’s hands, along with her yo-yo and the brooch, was Volpina’s necklace. “It’s the real thing,” Ladybug said miserably, and then her voice reverted to the discordant conglomerate from before. “I’m sure of it.”

“We were right,” Celeste said. “I hate that we were right. This is going to be so not cool.”

“Only if you’re sure,” Ladybug said, looking directly at Chat. Chat Noir bit his lip, then gave the briefest nod.

Ladybug closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “De-evilize.” The yo-yo opened and all four of them were blown back to the four corners of the room. Chat Noir wasn’t sure what happened in the next few moments. He just remembered his body aching. (He was sure he hit the wall with his back and was now splayed ungraciously on the floor.) Most of the room was clouded with dust. He had rose to his feet in the time it took for the dust to clear. So had everyone else, he saw, including Gabriel Agreste, who was patting down his white silk suit and looking around with a mixture of confusion and disdain.

“What is going on here?” He addressed the masked heroes generally.

It was Honeybee who answered first. “There was an akuma attack. Do you remember anything, Monsieur?”

“ _I_ have been subject to an akuma attack? Then of course I do not. Everything is in order, I presume?” Gabriel manner was stiff, unused to not being in control.

“Oh, it’s all good,” Celeste said. “We defeated Hawkmoth and saved the day in like fifteen minutes.”

“There was hardly any damage done, Monsieur.” Honeybee said with an air of obnoxious authority that beheld her years of training to be a socialite. “You should go downstairs. We’ll be gone in less than five minutes. It will be like we were never here.”

Something about Honeybee’s tone, and the combination of masks got Gabriel to listen, and he left the room with a puzzled expression but no protest.

Once Gabriel was out of earshot Celeste spoke first. “Um, Ladybug, you’re still glowing.”

Ladybug stared at her own hands, wide-eyed. “Tikki said it would subside in time,” she said weakly.

“What exactly did you do?” Honeybee asked in awe.

Ladybug stared at the ground. “Tikki taught me the incantation yesterday. She said it was a last resort. She said that with it, we could summon the real lucky charm we needed, no matter where it was. The incantation allows Tikki to possess me and draw greater power. Usually, when I summon a lucky charm, it is being conjured from the quantic realm. Once the ability is no longer in use, the object is undone with all the damage. By drawing on Tikki’s power more strongly, I was able to summon an object from our realm. One that was here before I did lucky charm, and one that would still be here after.”

The word _Volpina_ was left unsaid.

As Ladybug explained the others looked around the room to survey the damage. The room was spotless, as if nothing had occurred, except for some objects glistening on the floor where Ladybug had been standing before the purification had blown them all back. Chair Noir got there first, and squatted down by the objects. One was the lavender butterfly brooch, wholly intact. Surrounding it were shards of orange and while. Sixteen pieces, Chair Noir counted.

“Um, guys, I think we just broke a miraculous,” Chat Noir said. The three other miraculous users turned their heads sharply and started.

They huddled around Chat Noir. Gingerly, Celeste picked up the butterfly. Once it lay loosely in his palm the four of them felt a jolt. Then, a small white kwami materialized. “Thank you,” he said, before returning to the brooch.

Ladybug swept up the fragments of Volpina with shaking hands. Once all sixteen were gathered in her hands she started to speak, but before she could get a word out all four of them watched as the red aura that surrounded Ladybug seemed to shroud the necklace pieces more thickly, until the pieces themselves were almost obscured by the light that had shaped itself around them. After a few seconds all the light, both surrounding Ladybug and wrapped around the fragments, vanished.

“So you’re not glowing anymore.” Celeste touched his fingers to the bridge of his nose, as if to push up glasses that weren’t there. “Cool, but, did you absorb the miraculous or something?”

“I don’t know,” Ladybug panicked, “Is there any way to un-absorb it? Holy crap. I need to ask Tikki, which means I need to de-transform.”

“We can figure it out after we get out of here,” Chat Noir said. “Let’s go see Master Fu.” Celeste held onto the butterfly brooch and the four of them made themselves scarce through the window.

 

-

 

**Present Time**

 

“Mr. Agreste. Mr. Agreste.” 

“Huh? Yeah?” Adrien snapped out of his reminiscence to meet the glaring eyes of the photographer. “My apologies. I’m not used to responding to ‘Mr. Agreste.’ Please, call me Adrien.”

“Adrien, then,” the photographer amended. “These have been great shots, but how about we try looking a bit happier?”

Adrien tried to smile, but all of them turned out weak or fake—not his usual fake smile for the cameras, but something lacking enough that the camera picked it up. His makeup had to be redone once already because of the heat of the bright lights. _You have to smile better,_ Adrien thought to himself. _Think of what always makes you happy._

Black hair and cerulean blue eyes surfaced in his mind. Adrien recalled a certain conversation they had, in November of their _seconde_ year.

-

 

Marinette spent her Sunday helping out at the bakery because she had let it slip to her parents that she was a little ahead on work and they had promptly mentioned how much they missed her and questioned whether or not she was even making the effort to visit the bakery at all. That was how Marinette found herself with a striped apron tied over her casual pale pink dress, standing behind the register while Adrien was at his photoshoot. She was texting Aden regularly, even though she knew he wouldn’t be able to read them for another few hours, whenever the register was free, which was maybe once an hour. Around 3PM a girl with wavy blonde hair wearing huge white-rimmed sunglasses and a tan colored dress walked through the door.

“Hey Chloé,” Marinette said when she was finished with the previous customer.

“Marinette, I didn’t know you were going to be here.” Chloé took off her sunglasses and hung them from the strap of her bright yellow purse. “Aren’t you supposed to be locked in the atelier slaving away?”

“I managed to finish my work for Monday, and missed my parents, so here I am.” The bell at the door ran to indicate another customer entering. “What can I get for you?” Marinette asked as the other customer, a dark-skinned Indian girl who looked to be about ten whom Marinette recognized as a frequent buyer of their matcha shortbread cookies, got in line behind Chloé.

“Give me all the strawberry flavored mochi in the window,” Chloé said, pulling out her wallet.

“All of it?”

Chloé shrugged. “Raafa’s hungry. I’ll also take a strawberry tart for me.” While Marinette got the order ready Chloé pulled out her phone. She paid, and Marinette handed her a white paper bag. She continued to be absorbed with whatever she was doing on her phone as she took the bag and moved to the side, where she set the bag down on the counter less than a meter from the register.

Marinette took the ten-year-old’s order (a bag of matcha shortbread cookies) and turned to Chloé once the shop was free of customers. “What are you doing?”

“Shopping for dresses,” Chloé responded without looking up from her phone. “Daddy will probably want me to show up at another event this weekend. Sabrina is free, so don’t worry, I won’t need to borrow Adrien again. Unless you both want to come?” Chloe looked up when she asked this, the sense of malice Marinette would have associated with the girl in general just two years ago completely absent. Chloé got out her strawberry tart from the bag and took a bite out of it.

Marinette made a face. “Society events are bad enough when I have to go as Adrien’s guest. I think I’ll pass on this one. Especially because I probably _will_ be slaving away in the atelier soon enough.”

Marinette glanced over her shoulder then lowered her voice. “Hey, has Raafa seemed quieter than usual to you?”

Chloé gave her a thoughtful expression. “A little. I’m more concerned that she’s not eating as regularly.”

A few more customers came in, and it was about twenty minutes later that Marinette was free to talk again. She suspected that in that time Chloé had purchased a dress, secured a time to bring it in for tailoring, and subtly fed Raafa a piece of mochi by throwing it in her purse. Chloé’s miraculous, Marinette knew, was a hair comb she kept on her person at all times, but actually wore in her hair less frequently, depending on her outfit. When she transformed, the comb was incorporated into the circlet on her head, like how Nino’s brooch became a part of his right shoulder guard.

“She’s not eating regularly?” Marinette continued where they left off.

“I didn’t really think anything of it at first, but…” Chloé leaned over the register toward Marinette. “Tikki isn’t talking as much?”

“She and Plagg both,” Marinette admitted. “To be honest, I’ve been so busy with the internship and moving that I haven’t talked to Nino that much, but I wouldn’t be surprised if Duusu was acting strange too.”

“Do you think they’re sick?”

Marinette shook her head. “Tikki’s been sick before. This situation is different. If they were all sick at the same time, Master Fu would have us meet immediately, not on Wednesday.”

Another customer, a bald man in a business suit, came in. While Marinette was taking his order, a man holding the hands of a little boy with a slightly older girl trailing behind them came in.

“I have an appointment to get to, but I’ll talk to you later,” Chloé called as Marinette had just finished ringing up the business man.

When her mother came to change shifts with Marinette around 5PM, she commented on the visitor.

“How is Chloé doing?” Sabine asked. “It’s nice to see the two of you getting along.”

“Oh you know,” Marinette said. “Sunning and shopping and enjoying her freedom before university starts. Being Chloé.” Marinette hated lying to her mother, so she settled for the half-truth. When Marinette and Chloe had first started getting along better, Marinette had told her parents that they were both trying to be friends for Adrien’s sake, and left it at that.

As her mother took over the register, Marinette retreated upstairs to her attic room, which looked a little less lived-in now. Her bed looked oddly empty with the giant cat pillow gone.

“Tikki? Are you asleep?” Marinette asked once she shut the attic door.

“No,” the kwami answered, floating out from her bag. “Hey, your old room!”

Marinette looked around some more. There was still a Jagged Stone poster on the wall, although the rest of it was bare. The corkboard of photos of her and Alya, and some photos of her other friends had moved to the new apartment. The photos of Adrien as a young teenager, clipped from magazines, and the pull-down schedule that betrayed Marinette’s stalker tendencies, had long been removed, but the thought of them, and her enormous childhood crush, still made her face flush. Tikki must have been reading her mind, because the kwami giggled.

“I remember the photos that used to be right here,” Tikki teased, hovering over the desk.

Marinette buried her face in her hands. “Neither you, nor Alya, nor Adrien, is ever going to let me live that one down, are you?”

 

-

 

**Three years ago**

 

In the second week of September, a few days after she’d started _seconde_ at the larger _lycée_ Collège Françoise Dupont fed into, fifteen-year-old Marinette was running late, as usual. One of her goals for the new school year had been to be more punctual. She had gotten to school on time. Her favor with her teachers was helped by the lack of akuma attacks preventing her from going to class. However, her favor with her parents would be in question if she didn’t make it to the bakery for her shift, which had started five minutes ago. The high school campus was a ten-minute metro ride away from her house, instead of a three-minute walk, and Marinette would be fourteen minutes late because of the time spent talking to Alya in the courtyard after school.

_Lycée_ had gotten off to an okay start. She was adjusting to the increase in students (though their school was still relatively tiny compared to the typical, less “prestigious” neighborhood schools). Her classmates from _collège_ continued to be tight-knit, except for Chloé and Sabrina, who begrudgingly acknowledged Marinette as their former class president, but otherwise pretended not to know her. Chloé had fallen in with a clique of four other girls who were exactly her type of rich, catty, and entitled. Sabrina had tagged along, naturally.

Alya was as fierce and loyal as ever. She and Nino had broken it off over the summer, but then Marinette had caught them holding hands in the park across the street the day before school started. When Marinette had confronted Alya on the subject, she had shrugged and said “we’re friends, if nothing else.”

Her best friend and Nino’s current preoccupation was maintaining a metaphorical protective circle around Adrien, whose number of fans had only increased as he moved up in school and in the industry. Marinette was also used as a buffer, along with the majority of their classmates from the previous year. Alya and Nino’s protectiveness meant Marinette sat with Adrien at lunch every day and sometimes walked with him to class together, but still couldn’t speak to him in complete sentences. Adrien described his summer as boring, consisting of fencing, learning Chinese, and modeling. As far as Marinette could tell, there was no one he was interested in at their new school, and no one he had met over the summer, which Marinette was pleased with even though wasn’t considered anything but Adrien’s friend.

Marinette hopped off the metro at her stop and walked home. Sabine looked at her sheepishly as she walked through the door.

“Sorry, I got caught up talking to Alya,” Marinette said as she threw her schoolbag on the ground. Tikki was in the tiny purse she kept on her person at all times. Marinette grabbed an apron and changed places with Sabine once she had finished with the current customer.

“I am completely unsurprised at this point, dear,” Sabine said. “Do try harder tomorrow. How was school?”

“Fine,” Marinette said. “I signed Alix’s cast and am having trouble rolling the “Rs” in Italian.” Alix had broken her arm in a rollerblading accident over the weekend and had come back to school just that day with a bright blue cast. Marinette had drawn a rollerblading cartoon figure of Alix and a cat, while writing the words “get well soon.” Adrien had also drawn a cartoon of a black cat on it, with the words “for good luck” next to it. It prompted Rosé to draw a cat adorned with bows and flowers. At that point Alix had noticed what they were doing and told them to stop covering prime signing space with felines. Nathaniel fixed the issue by drawing a small dinosaur wearing a bowtie.

Marinette had chosen to learn Italian in addition to the English she had been studying for years because she thought it would be good to know for the fashion industry.

An hour into her shift, Alya walked into the bakery. She still had her schoolbag with her. “I just came from newspaper club,” Alya said. “My siblings called me as I left and _demanded_ I get an assortment of cookies from here. Why did you bring the sampler plate to my house last week? They are addicted, girl.”

Marinette giggled. “Papa will be flattered. Which ones do you want?”

After dinner Marinette did her homework as quickly as possible so she could start patrolling. On the rooftop of the bakery she checked her com. There was an unread message from Chat Noir. _I can’t make the patrol time tonight because of an appointment I can’t get out of. I may patrol later. Don’t wait up, and don’t miss me too much, My Lady ;)_ it said.

Ladybug rolled her eyes and responded to her partner’s message with a plain _stay safe_ before heading off.

There was nothing particularly interesting on patrol. She may have scared off a robber (or so she assumed from the ski mask in his back pocket) when she leaped over an alley way and he saw her distinctive, pigtailed shadow from the ground. Then again, the person may have also been spooked by the nearby crash caused by a backpacker having knocked over a bike. Once she made sure the backpacker was alright (and didn’t cross paths with the potential robber) she left them both alone. Everyone was innocent until caught in the act.

It was around midnight when she got back to her room, just in time for her parents to wake up and check in on her, and blearily tell her she should go to sleep, no matter how nice the dress she was working on was going to be, she could work on it during the next day. Marinette pretended to do so and, twenty minutes later, after she had Tikki check that her parents were sound sleep in their room, Marinette transformed again and went to the top of the Eifel Tower.

Perhaps she should have gone to sleep, and Chat Noir had explicitly told her not to wait up for him, but she wanted to make sure the dumb cat was okay. However insufferable he was, Chat was her partner and kind of her friend. She sat on ledge of the tower, in what was effectively their spot, and looked over Paris. If he were patrolling, she would spot him for sure. She hadn’t seen him in eight days, she calculated, although they had kept in contact using their coms every day. Marinette had been worried about being able to patrol less with the start of _lycée,_ but she hadn’t considered that Chat would get busier too. Perhaps he had started _lycée_ as well? By piecing together various conversations, Ladybug gathered that Chat Noir was around her age. Marinette was curious about who Chat was under the mask, despite was she told him to his face. If it weren’t a matter of safety, of Hawkmoth possibly finding out the information and using them against each other, perhaps they would have already told each other. Even without knowing each other’s identities, after two years of working together, there was no one Marinette trusted more.

After ten minutes Marinette didn’t see any sign of Chat, but she thought she saw a flash of human-sized moment by the park near her house. The park that should have been closed now. Upon moving in for a closer look she saw the person was a tall male with blond— _Adrien_? What was he doing up? Ladybug was about to muster up the courage to act the cool, confident superhero, and tell him that it was late and he should be home, when she saw something fairly large fly out of his pockets.

“Plagg, _transforme-moi._ ”

Wait. What? Marinette was shocked speechless at what her brain had just deduced. Unless it was some surreal hallucination, in which case she really did need more sleep.

Chat Noir did a very feline stretch of his body and said, “Let’s go, Plagg. I thought that photoshoot would never end.”

Come to think of it, Adrien had mentioned he had a photoshoot this evening when they were at lunch together (in a little bistro by the school, along with Alya, Nino, Alix, and Nathaniel. It was then that Nathaniel had shyly asked if he could sign Alix’s cast). The photoshoot must have been what Chat Noir—Adrien, was referring to when he said he had a prior engagement.

Marinette was shocked out of her stupor when Chat moved. He would see her soon enough. Once he reached the rooftops, if she remained frozen in place. Chat Noir would undoubtedly approach Ladybug, excited to see her, and… what would she do? She was never Ladybug when it came to Adrien. She was only awkward, clumsy Marinette. She wasn’t ready to talk to Chat just yet. She couldn’t handle it. So, Marinette as Ladybug did what she did best when Adrien got too close, when he talked directly to her without anyone else present. She turned away and ran.

Ladybug got back to her balcony in record time, sure Chat Noir hadn’t spotted her as he had headed in the other direction, and de-transformed once in her room, which was still dark. She flopped down on her bed and let out a silent scream into her giant cat pillow.

_Adrien was Chat Noir. Chat Noir was Adrien._ Repeating the recently discovered fact did not make things better. Marinette rolled over and stared up at her ceiling. Tikki hovered above her calmly.

“Plagg and I were both wondering how either of you would find out. At the same time, separately, deliberately, accidentally. It’s all been done before, and it’s always fun to wonder.” Tikki’s voice was calm; soothing, even.

“You knew?” Marinette asked weakly. “The entire time, you knew it was him?”

“Plagg and I can sense each other nearby. It was easy enough to figure out.”

“Why couldn’t you have told me?”

“We kwami aren’t allowed to interfere in that way,” Tikki explained gently but firmly. “It’s against the rules.”

Marinette narrowed her eyes. “What rules?”

“There are more rules than you know. Too many to go over at once. A need-to-know basis is usually the best approach.”

Marinette sighed and covered her face with her hands. “He sat in front of me in class for two years. I spent all day staring at the back of his head…”

The next morning, Marinette tried to act natural in front of Adrien, as if he didn’t have a double life. She barely squeaked a hello to him before Alya launched into a story about what two of her younger siblings were up to yesterday. Before she had another chance to talk to him, it was time for class. She approached Alya about it after pre-calc.

“With Adrien today, this morning,” Marinette began before realizing she had no idea how to finish her sentence. _So yesterday I found out he’s actually Chat Noir, oh, and by the way, I’m Ladybug. Alya, what should I do?_

“What about it?” Alya cocked her head to the side.

“Wait, I wasn’t acting too weird?”

Alya scoffed. “Please girl, you not being able to get two words out in front of him, he’s used to. Nino was actually telling me about how Adrien doesn’t think you like him in particular because you don’t say very much to him. I mean, he knows you think of him as a friend, but that’s it.”

Marinette blanched, and Alya laughed. “Nino and I have determined that you go through cycles of being able to talk to him properly. It’s like a sigmoidal graph,” Alia explained, which reminded Marinette of the math test they had next week.

Marinette considered Alya’s words for the rest of the day, especially as the group chatted briefly after school before Adrien had to leave for fencing, Alya for newspaper, and Marinette for the student council. Alix had joined them as well, and was ranting about how her roller derby coach still wasn’t letting her skate.

“I told him my legs work just fine, but he’s not having it. I still have to cut my time down by five seconds, and the arm doesn’t throw me off balance by that much.”

“The coach probably just has your best interests in mind,” Adrien offered. “At least you don’t do swimming, so you still can kind of practice on your own if you want.” Marinette looked at Adrien, who smiled his usual smile at her and talked to Nino, who was showing him something about Kingdom Hearts 3 on his phone. The group went their separate ways.

And. And nothing. Neither Adrien nor anyone else had realized something was the matter with her. She had been completely tongue-tied and Adrien had assumed it was normal. Thinking about it made her chest hurt. To distract herself, she got out her folder for the student council work and was shuffling through papers while walking, which sent them flying when she collided with someone.

“Sorry,” Marinette apologized reflexively as she gathered her things.

“Yeah, watch where you’re going,” a haughty voice snarled. Marinette blinked. Quickly getting up and dusting herself off was Ava Breton, one of the mean girls of the clique Chloé had joined, and fellow student council member.

Marinette rolled her eyes as she helped herself up. She didn’t have time for such cattiness. “After you,” she said, gesturing to the door to the student council room.

Later that night, after student council had ended and she had returned home, done some homework, had dinner with her parents, and finished her homework, she transformed and prepared to patrol. When she got her com out, Ladybug saw she had a message from Chat Noir.

**Can finally patrol with you tonight, Bugaboo ;),** the text said. Marinette felt a fresh wave of panic set in. Was it too late to back out of patrol? She could make something up. A school project, a sudden cough— but Marinette felt bad about lying. _It’s just Chat Noir,_ she told herself. _Same old dork. Just act normal._

Ladybug spent the first twenty minutes of patrol ducking into shadows and going roundabout ways so that she wouldn’t run into her partner. Then, Chat waved at her, meeting her gaze from another rooftop, and Ladybug froze.

“You’re a hard girl to get a hold of,” Chat Noir said.

“I’ve been busy. We both have been,” Marinette squeaked. “It’s nice to see you again,” she added honestly because, despite her brain still trying to stitch itself together with the fact that _Adrien Agreste and Chat Noir were the same person_ as a working concept, it was.

“I wish I could tell you what I’ve been up to,” Chat Noir said earnestly. The implication was not lost to Marinette. Chat half-seriously suggesting they revealed each other’s identities to each other came up in every other conversation, bested only by the casual flirting that came with everyone. Usually, Marinette took it in stride, but now, she couldn’t.

Marinette knew Adrien was just about perfect, and Chat Noir, despite his flaws, was amazing too. What did she have going for herself, without the mask? “Where’s the fun without the mystery?” The words were coupled with such a sad smile, instead of the usual teasing tome, that Chat Noir’s grin faltered.

“LB, is everything okay?”

Marinette bit her lip, and then thought for moment before continuing. “I’m different without the mask, you know. You’d be disappointed in clumsy old me.”

“No, I wouldn’t,” Chat Noir insisted. “I’m different without the mask too. Me wanting to know your identity is not about us one-upping each other in terms of expectations. It’s just that you know me better than anyone, and it would be great if we could, I don’t know, hang out outside of work?” Chat Noir had stepped closer and put his hand on her arm gently.

Marinette didn’t bother to move away, and chuckled in spite of herself. Then, the two of them turned as they heard the sound of a door sliding open. A building over, someone had spotted them, and was fumbling to get a phone out.

“You’re sweet.” Marinette recovered quickly. “But I think that’s our cue to get back to our jobs, Chat.” She took a few steps back and shot out her yo-yo in order to propel herself across the street diagonally, largely out of sight from the camera. This time, she waited to hear Chat Noir land behind her, and they were off.

Patrol went as usual, although Ladybug’s farewell was terse. Chat Noir decided not to push the matter.

“Until next time, My Lady,” he said with a characteristic wink.

As Marinette made her way home she thought of Adrien Agreste making such Chat Noir-like gestures and saying lines as corny as “until next time, My Lady.” Marinette shook her head vigorously. Her head was going to implode at this rate. Marinette de-transformed and changed into her pajamas.

_I’m different without the mask too,_ Chat Noir had said. Marinette had to admit that Adrien and Chat did act pretty different. Adrien was always reserved, shy, and quiet. Marinette could see the unfailing kindness that both of them had at their core, but the confidence and sheer silliness that Chat Noir always entertained her with did not fit Adrien’s image at all.

“Tikki, why did I fall for Adrien, again?” She mused as she glanced around her room at the posters and pictures cut out from magazine spreads. Most of his fangirls liked how he looked (admittedly pretty), but Marinette hadn’t ever really cared about that. Sure, his modeling and public profile made her stalker-tendencies easier, and meant she saw pictures of him more frequently in passing than most fifteen-year-old girls did with their school crush, but if Adrien were to stop modeling, Marinette wouldn’t be particularly devastated like she expected the internet would be.

“I seem to recall an incident with an umbrella,” Tikki chirped, and Marinette felt her mouth curl into a smile and her face heat up in spite of herself.

“Tha— Things didn’t get quite so bad until after.”

“Whatever you say, Marinette.”

Marinette wrapped herself in her blankets as she struggled to go to sleep. Marinette was certain she knew Chat Noir quite well as Ladybug. His personality and nature, and countless times working together had made Marinette trust him implicitly, regardless of whatever him name was. Marinette still trusted him completely. It was Adrien that Marinette was having trouble wrapping her mind around. What Marinette admired most about Adrien was his kindness and humility. When he had handed her his umbrella, with zero ulterior motives, and only a desire to prove his sincerity, Marinette had to reevaluate her own prejudices. Given the circumstances of their first encounter, she had been quick to judge the little rich boy as someone like Chloé, but he had turned out to be the exact opposite, despite Adrien being oddly tolerable of the spoiled girl’s tendencies. Adrien was, well, perfect in a way she could never image Chat Noir to be. Adrien was sweet, hardworking, considerate, and smart. He was poised and gracious, and so many other traits Marinette herself wish she embodied more.

Marinette has always pictured Adrien as flawless, but how much of her perceptions of him were true? Nino had tons of stories about Adrien being a dork, and Alya claimed he could be a bit clueless at times. Despite two years at the same class in _collège_ and their casual friendship now, how many times had Marinette actual had a meaningful conversation with him (in his civilian form, and not as Chat Noir)? All the facts she knew about him like his favorite color and his favorite food were cultivated from interviews printed in magazines or released online and a lot more snooping around than she cared to admit. After over two years of interacting with him, Adrien was still this untouchable, semi-divine being in Marinette’s mind. Wasn’t there something wrong with that mindset? After two years, Marinette would be the first to admit that Alya, the best friend she loved dearly, was headstrong and nosy. Years of knowing Nino had Marinette realize how languid and unfocused he could be. Rosé could be prissy, Alix and Kim were maybe too headstrong and competitive for their own good, and Jukela was sometimes downright melancholy. However, these traits were a part of who her friends were, and Marinette didn’t love them any less for it. Marinette herself was constantly late, put things off in a way that frustrated herself and her parents, and quick to judge others. Her impulsiveness had gotten her in trouble as Ladybug and as a civilian more times that she could count.

“Tikki,” Marinette whispered, as to not to wake her parents as she had turned off the lights and was pretending to sleep. “Do you think I’ve been putting Adrien on a pedestal this whole time?”

“I can say from millennia of experience that nobody is perfect, human or otherwise,” Tikki said.

“Do I really know Adrien at all?” _Does Adrien even know me, as Marinette?_ She thought, but did not say aloud. They spent every school day together, yet Alya, Adrien (and everyone else) had accepted her distinct inability to talk to him as normal. They were friends, yet they existed around each other, largely because Marinette would balk and pull away at Adrien’s attempts to be friendly or cordial. _He knows you think of him as a friend and that’s it,_ Alya had explained. Incidents of Adrien being his amicable, usual self, but Marinette shrinking away from him as if she was scared flooded her mind. Like last week in class when he had complimented one of the dress designs she had doodled in her physics notebook and she had made a pathetic squeak of a “thank you” before turning away. Or over the summer, when Alya had insisted Marinette and Adrien go with her and Nino to the beach, and Marinette had gone to get iced tea for all of them. When Adrien tried to help her carry all the drinks back Marinette had been so surprised she’s spilled the drinks on both of them and blabbered an apology but was otherwise too embarrassed to talk to him for the rest of the time.

“My god, why is he still friends with me?” Marinette lamented. Eventually, she fell into a fitful sleep, but got up earlier than usual the next morning.

After brushing her teeth, she walked around the room in her pajamas and took down every picture of Adrien she’d tacked onto the wall—except the one from the middle school graduation ceremony that also had Alya and Nino in it. She opened her computer and changed her desktop background to a shot Alya had taken of the sunset on the beach. It was a really nice picture. Her best friend seemed to have developed a passion for photography in conjunction with running her blog.

Marinette got dressed, and then yanked down the string of the pull-down schedule. It didn’t have Adrien’s photoshoot from two days ago penciled in, but was otherwise up-to-date for the month. Marinette tore down all the post-its and stickers and color-coded section of construction paper. She erased everything written in dry-erase marker, and threw all the bits of paper into the recycling bin in her room. She thought of doing the same thing with the pictures, where were lying on a stack on her desk, but shoved them in one of drawers instead. Marinette hurried down to breakfast, and was only five minutes late to her first class.

For lunch that day a group of them went to a Viet place by the school. Marinette split an order of summer rolls and broken rice with Alya. She sat next to Adrien, who had ordered rolls as well.

_It’s just Chat Noir,_ Marinette thought as she willed herself to talk to Adrien normally. To treat him like a human being instead of a doll or an idol. He was her friend, whatever else, and she owed him that much. “What’d you think of the history reading?” Marinette began in a small voice.

Adrien perked up and turned to face her. Marinette tried not to flinch or jerk away as he looked right at her. His eyes were a deeper green than when he was Chat, she noticed. “It was really interesting,” Adrien said. “I had no idea the Ottoman Empire stretched as far as it did, for that long.”

Marinette nodded. “It was fascinating,” she said. “I even googled some of the buildings they mentioned to get a better sense of the architecture.”

As they continued to talk, Marinette felt her phone vibrate, and checked to see she had several texts from Alya. One of them said _you go girl!!!_ While most of the others were combinations of shocked, awed, and smug looking emoji’s.

Marinette still had to hype herself up to it some of the time, but each day she was getting better and better at talking to Adrien without totally seeming like a fish out of water. They talked about school, mostly, but also video games and the intricacies of learning another language. (Besides the compulsory English, Adrien was continuing with Chinese, and it turned out he had been tutored in Italian when he was younger, which Marinette was still struggling to speak in, although reading and writing in it wasn’t too bad.) He tried to explain the appeal of Japanese anime to her, while she tried to get him to sample every macaron flavor her father baked over the course of two weeks.

However, Ladybug had barely seen Chat Noir in the meantime. At first it was because Marinette was still reeling over the idea that it was Adrien under the skin-tight leather and cat ears. After she had finally accepted the notion, it became a matter of course. What if she accidentally called him Adrien instead of Chat? How would she explain how she knew? Marinette wasn’t sure how Chat Noir would react to the information that Ladybug was a fan of the teen model Adrien Agreste and that’s how she recognized him. Other things, such as how long she had kept it a secret, and how he would probably want to know her identity now too, as it was only fair, were even greater matters of concern.

Ladybug and Chat met as often as possible during patrols, but their meetings were kept as short as possible. After an akuma attack in October, Ladybug had made up some lame excuse and sped off after their customary fist bump, trying to ignore Chat Noir’s luminous green eyes on her back.

Tikki commented on her behavior. “Marinette, are you only capable of properly interacting with one of his identities at a time? It’s the same person, you know. Just like how you’re more like Ladybug as Marinette than you realize.”

Marinette shook her head. “They’re the same person, which is wonderful, but I’m the same person too, which isn’t.” Marinette was fully aware of Chat Noir’s fascination with Ladybug, whether she was a five-thousand-year-old goddess or a human being. In his mind, he had Ladybug painted as a magnificent, self-confident queen, and he probably expected some of that to transfer over, regardless of how different her civilian identity was. Marinette didn’t want to disappoint him. He was on one side, her best friend and, on the other side of it _Adrien_ , who would be easiest to call her schoolgirl crush, but Marinette felt that descriptor was doing what friendship was budding between them a disservice. She didn’t want to see the confusion and sadness in his eyes when his hero turned out to be the awkward girl who sat behind him for two years in school and could only just-now form coherent words in his presence. Perhaps the disillusionment that may come with the identity reveal wouldn’t break his heart, but it would do a number on hers.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I might be able to update the next chapter earlier than usual! Perhaps within a week's time.


	4. If Anything Else

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think this is the fastest I've ever updated... Getting kudos always makes my day, so please click that button if you feel like it. Thanks for reading. Enjoy!

**Three Years Ago**

For the past couple years Adrien could easily call his time as Chat Noir the highlight of his days between the endless lessons, practices, and work. Going to public school and hanging out with Nino and his other classmates was great, but it did not compare to the freedom of running around Paris as Chat, always keeping an eye out for his Lady. However, several weeks back, around when school started, Ladybug had started acting strange. Chat Noir had chalked it up to her being busy, but her persistent avoidance of him, which had turned into terse conversations whenever they did meet, was a sign of something larger at play. It was as if something had spooked her. Ladybug had quickly reassured him that he had done nothing wrong. _I’m just working through some stuff right now,_ she had told him. _Don’t worry too much about it, Kitty._

Ladybug didn’t elaborate, and Adrien wasn’t sure how far he should push, so he had left it alone. They still worked well together (Adrien wanted to believe that whatever was to come, they would always be partners, with the mutual understanding it came with), but Adrien also sensed the gap between them widening. It was the first week of November, and after about two months of Ladybug acting far more distant than usual, Adrien had to admit his time as Chat wasn’t his favorite anymore. Part of it was the fact that without the usual banter with Ladybug, Adrien felt like he had lost half of the reason he loved being Chat in the first place. Part of it was high school.

Nino and Alya had made it their mission to make _lycée_ as enjoyable for him as possible after Nino had learned further details about his homeschooling. (“ _Chlo_ _é_ was the _only_ friend you had growing up?” Nino had exclaimed. “And you have no embarrassing pictures from plays you were in as a kindergartener or stories from trying to establish your place in the playground hierarchy?” At this point in the conversation Adrien had decided perhaps he really had had a rather irregular upbringing, because he had zero clue what Nino was lamenting over.)

The _lycée_ was larger than what the _collège_ had been, which meant more people to interact with. Yet, Adrien had an easier time dealing with fangirls, fanboys, other opportunists, and the rest of the downsides to being a teen model and minor celebrity now than last year. He knew it was largely due to Nino’s protectiveness and Alya’s often-intimidating nature. He was still close with most of his class from last year, although Chloé and Sabrina had drifted away from the group entirely in favor of some other girls. Sometimes, there were things even Nino couldn’t protect him from, but Adrien had spent the better part of his childhood learning how to deal with people’s expectations of him and the gossip his background came with.

Lunch had cemented itself as Adrien’s favorite time of day. He smiled to himself as he recalled the most recent incident. Today, Adrien had spent the better part of lunch crouched under a table at a fancy restaurant trying to finish the tuna salad sandwich he had bought from the bodega across the street and laughing with Marinette. Lunch had begun as usual, with Adrien meeting up with Nino, Alya, and Marinette. Alix had called after them and joined with Nathaniel and Kim last minute. Nathaniel seemed to be mediating a fight Alix and Kim were having after Kim had suggested he would have had his arm out of a cast faster than her. They headed over to the bodega, thinking of eating their lunch out in a nearby park, or in Alix’s townhouse, which was within walking distance.

What came next was probably a result of Adrien’s Autumn/Winter campaign for the Agreste label gaining more visibility, and his refusal to do interviews (something he and his father both agreed on), because really, he was just doing his job, and it wasn’t anything worthwhile like saving the world. Marinette, who was behind him and the last of their group in line, noticed the cameras gathering outside as Adrien finished paying for his sandwich. She grabbed Adrien’s wrist before he knew what was happening and turned to the guy behind the counter, who was scowling at the paparazzi outside.

“We’ll be going through the back door,” Marinette said in a tone that couldn’t be argued with, and pulled Adrien towards the kitchens. Adrien turned and saw Alya had marched outside and matched the cameras with her phone. No doubt there would be a clip on the Ladyblog later, and Alya would relate it to Paris’ heroes somehow. Kim had effectively blocked the door, and Adrien wasn’t quite sure where the others had gone.

The pair of them blazed through the kitchen, both muttering quick apologies. The kitchen entrance opened up to a side street Adrien was completely unfamiliar with outside of patrolling past it at night. Marinette was on her tip-toes, glancing around frantically. Her other hand gripped the sack of her knapsack tightly. She found what she was looking for, and Adrien was led across the street.

“My dad supplies this restaurant with their desserts,” Marinette explained quickly as she pushed through the door. “They’re never that busy before 8PM, but they are open for lunch hours. I’ve met the manager a couple of times. I’ll try explaining the situation, and maybe they’ll help.”

Adrien looked around and recognized the finely decorated interior. “I think I’ve eaten here before.” He’d probably been driven there in the evening, which was why he didn’t know the street in daytime.

The manager, it turned out, recognized both of them. He approached them apprehensively, but Marinette made quick work of explaining that Adrien had caught some unwanted attention, and they would leave within an hour, because they had to be back at school.

“Of course, Ms. Dupain-Cheng,” the manager, Earnesto, said. “There is a table in the back behind the azaleas that should conceal you from view of the front door.” Earnesto showed them the way. They passed a table of businessmen completely absorbed in their own conversation, and a group of three twenty-somethings who Adrien assumed were backpackers. A waiter was at their table at the moment, so they too, weren’t too disturbed by his and Marinette’s suddenly barging in.

“Thank you so much, Earnesto,” Marinette beamed.

“No problem. Do give my compliments to your father. His cakes are divine,” Earnesto said, before turning to Adrien. “I do also hope you or your father shall dine with us again, Mr. Agreste.”

Adrien nodded. “Thank you. We will.”

“Wait!” Marinette said as Adrien felt her release his wrist. He then realized she had been holding onto it the entire time. “For your trouble,” Marinette said, pulling out a bag of macarons from her bag. “There are six of them in there. You can share them with the rest of the staff.”

Earnesto thanked her and left.

Marinette turned to Adrien, her face flushed, looking rather gleeful. “I can’t believe we—oh no.”

“What is it?” Adrien asked just as he was going to sit down at the table and order something quick so the restaurant could at least profit from the trouble they were causing.

“There’s a window here too,” Marinette said, pointing behind Adrien. “I mean, we could just sit, and maybe they won’t find us.”

“I’ve never been that lucky,” Adrien said warily. “Ah, I’ve got it.” Marinette looked at him perplexed as he moved the chairs and crawled under the table. He was blocked from view, as the table cloths when down to the floor. “I’m invisible now, see?” Adrien started to eat his sandwich, which had gotten a little squished in his hand in the mayhem, but was otherwise okay.

“You’re such a dork,” Marinette giggled, and lifted the cloth up again to joined him under the table. Since it was daytime light was able to peak through the white cloth. Marinette got out her phone for betting lighting anyway. “Running from paparazzi to eat lunch in peace. Just the normal life of Adrien Agreste,” she teased. “Though I am surprised you didn’t spot the cameras earlier. You’re usually good about it—I mean, not that I’ve been paying too much attention to you—or it, it’s just something I might have noticed.”

Adrien blinked. Marinette did have a fair point. He hadn’t noticed the cameras because he’d been lost in thought. What had he been thinking about again? Oh, right. Ladybug’s strange behavior. “I guess so,” Adrien said. “Thanks for saving me, by the way.”

“N-no problem.” Marinette was flustered. Perhaps she was still on an adrenaline high from all the running they’d just done.

Over the past few weeks, Adrien had been talking to Marinette on a more regular basis. Sure, they had hung out before, and Adrien had watched her give speeches as class president, but it was different from talking to her one-on-one, which had only occurred a handful of times prior to this year. Before, Marinette had always seemed a bit put off whenever he tried talking to her. She was undoubtedly kind, giving him her good-luck charm for that videogame tournament and worrying about him in general, but it was the sort of kindness that radiated like sunlight. It was the sort of kindness she touched everyone with, and Adrien was not conceited enough to presume more from it. At the start of the school year, Marinette had naturally joined their group, and they had fallen into the same pattern. Marinette was pleasant to him, but not any warmer and friendlier than how she treated Alix or Jukela. If anything, Adrien thought there was even a distance between them that did not seem to separate Marinette from the rest of the class.

Maybe it was their constantly eating lunch together, or walking in the hallways together (because honestly, Adrien had never been that comfortable with the stares he got or large crowds in general), but something had changed. Their casual friendship had deepened into a more genuine one. Marinette was still flustered much of the time, but Adrien found it to be a part of her charm. Some days, Adrien even spent more time talking to Marinette than with Nino. She was a warm, reassuring presence. Marinette was a large part of the reason why he currently enjoyed being Adrien more than he enjoyed being Chat Noir. With Ladybug acting as she was, Adrien had even considered looking for Marinette as Chat to ask for advice because she was the only civilian he had ever helped who looked at him less with awe and more as a normal guy. But something had stopped him from seeking out Marinette. He liked the idea of Marinette being a growing part of Adrien’s life, and he wanted to keep his superhero and civilian identities as separate as possible on every front except Ladybug. Ladybug, whom he was constantly puzzled over. Plagg was no help on the matter, as he only ever chuckled in reply, or left cryptic comments that centered on calling Adrien an idiot.

“Being in the limelight sounds awful, even if it’s necessary,” Marinette said with a thoughtful expression.

“Pro tip for when you become a world famous fashion designer,” Adrien said. “Invest in a good pair of sunglasses.”

“Uh, um, I don’t think they’ll hound me as much as you.” Marinette stammered through the sentence wide-eyed. She made another sort of squeak as her stomach rumbled.

“Sorry,” she said. “I would have had the macarons, but, you know. I brought them to share with everyone as dessert, by the way.”

“Oh, you didn’t get to buy lunch,” Adrien realized. “This lunch was effectively a disaster,” he agreed. Adrien looked down at his tuna salad sandwiched in a sliced baguette. He had taken two bites out of one of the halves. Adrien quickly handed Marinette the other half. “Here, you can have it. Sorry if you don’t like tuna.”

“No, it’s fine,” Marinette said as she stared dumbly down at the sandwich Adrien had placed in her hands. “Thanks,” she added before taking a bite. They ate in silence for a few moments. Adrien watched as Marinette texted on her phone between bites. She seemed to almost choke on her sandwich while reading a reply.

“Would you be okay with eating in the cafeteria tomorrow?” Marinette asked after she had finished eating. “Or we could sneak off to Alix’s house or something.”

“It can’t be any worse in the cafeteria than the outside. I can ask the chef for a packed lunch, probably,” Adrien said.

“My mom can make you something,” Marinette said in a rush. “She loves cooking for other people.”

_Right,_ Adrien thought. _Marinette had been there when he’d casually mentioned to Nino that his father got reports of any requests to the staff._ Adrien’s exponential increase in Camembert consumption was something the chef had picked up subtly and accommodated. It had not been requested directly.

“I wouldn’t want to trouble—”

“Adrien, we own a bakery. If there is anything we have an abundance of at my house, its food.”

“You’ve saved me twice in one day,” Adrien said.

“You’re such a damsel-in-distress, you make it too easy,” Marinette teased. “Besides, the break starts the day after. I’m filling the quota because I won’t see you for a week.”

Right. Adrien had nearly forgotten about the break. If he finished all the homework as quickly as possible, he should be able to patrol for long periods each day and finally talk to Ladybug, he hoped.

They were interrupted by the sound of someone entering the restaurant and footsteps headed towards them.

“I can’t believe you two are actually hiding under a table,” Alix said as she lifted the table cloth and bent down to meet their eyes. “Although it was probably a smart idea. I just saw some of them come down this way. I’m just about fed up with them, so I called the car. It’s waiting outside." 

“You did?” Marinette gasped.

Alix shrugged. “It’s not like it was being used.” She turned to Adrien. “Think you can make it outside for two minutes, pretty boy? I can be your bodyguard. Marinette can probably do it too. She’s stronger than she looks.”

Marinette laughed at the absurdity of Alix’s statement.

“You two are adorable under there, by the way,” Alix added as Marinette scrambled up.

“Alix, what happened to your arm?” Marinette asked.

Adrien unfolded himself as he emerged from under the table and stretched out his back. Due to his height he had been hunched over for most of lunch. He got a better look at what Marinette was referring to. Alix’s left arm, which was already in a cast, had been mummified in toilet paper. There was scrawl all over it, in black calligraphy, but Adrien soon realized he shouldn’t read the words too closely.

“Oh, this?” Alix waved her arm like a banner. “It was Nino’s idea. He, Nathaniel, and I enter the gender neutral bathroom at the same time. The two of them go through two rolls of toilet paper to cover my cast. Then, Nathaniel takes out a black marker, and writes the most terrible obscenities Nino and I can come up with in three minutes using his super pretty handwriting. I walk out and wave my arms for the cameras, joining Alya on the street. Let’s just say that all the clear shots they managed to get were of my lovely arm, and thus not publishable.”

The three of them exited the restaurant and slipped into the car without incident. It was a large black town car, and fairly comfortable inside. Adrien was reminded that Alix’s family was also fairly wealthy. Not to the extent that his family, or Chloé’s, was but she had a driver on call and the townhouse, Adrien knew, was one of several residences. Alix instructed the driver to take them to school, and then quickly disposed of the toilet paper encasing her arm with Marinette’s help. The last thing they needed was to return to school, have a teacher read what was written on the paper, and cause an even bigger scene.

They made it back with time to spare, and once afternoon classes had begun, it was as if nothing out of the ordinary had occurred.

Right before Adrien had transformed and headed for patrol, he got a text from Marinette confirming that she was bringing him lunch tomorrow.

“Dear Lord,” Plagg had said. “I thought it was bad with Ladybug.” The statement appeared completely unrelated to Adrien, but Plagg refused to clarify.

That night, he saw the signs of the akuma attack before he saw Ladybug herself.

The Bedazzler was an Amazonian figure in a chrome suit and hands that were robotic, starch white, and shot out crystals at such speeds Chat could hear the jewels whistle past his ears and _hurt_ when some grazed his arm.

“It’s not in the inventory, dear customer,” the akuma snarled. “But here, have all the diamonds you want!”

Ladybug landed beside Chat as she ducked behind a trashcan to avoid getting pelted by tiny Swarovski crystals.

“It’s a jilted salesperson, I think,” Ladybug said. “The akuma is in the nametag pinned on her suit.”

“She’s real gem,” Chat said. Ladybug rolled her eyes, but smiled anyway.

Their moment was interrupted when the Bedazzler spotted them and sent another mass of tiny crystals their way. Chat Noir lept forward immediately and used Cataclysm. The black matter from his hand destroyed all the crystals it touched, which was enough for Ladybug to advance. Her first attempt at grabbing the pin with the string of her yoyo missed as the Bedazzler, who was already levitating off the ground, made a sharp left and approached with another onslaught of crystals.

Chat Noir could see the movement in the dark better than Ladybug could. His body moved automatically, before his head could really process what he was doing. He pushed her out of the way and felt the shards of crystal hit his back like countless thorns.

She stumbled back horrorstruck, but recovered quickly, and threw her yo-yo in the air.

“Lucky charm,” Ladybug shouted. A large wool blanket landed in her hands. Ladybug charged at the Bedazzler. Chat Noir supposed any other crystals must have caught onto the blanket and sagged it. Between moments of blacking out and moments of blurry-visioned consciousness Chat Noir was vaguely aware of the blanket being thrown on top of the akumatized person and used to constrict movement. Whatever actually happened, Ladybug must have gotten the pin off and purified it, because the next thing Chat Noir remembered as his sight became increasingly distorted before the black edges set in completely was Ladybug’s mask and eyes.

Chat tilted his head back and saw the night sky. “Did we win?” He croaked.

Ladybug nodded furiously. She was blinking rapidly. “Chat, you idiot. You could have been seriously hurt. If de-evilizing didn’t fix injuries, your back… I would have been okay. I could have deflected most of the crystals with my yo-yo. But you…”

“This is the longest conversation we’ve had in weeks,” Adrien said with a sad smile. He reached up so that his left hand cupped the side of her face. She didn’t pull away like he expected. “If I had known this was what it would take…”

“Don’t you dare insinuate that you would go hurt yourself on purpose,” Ladybug said, clasping the hand that was touching her cheek.

Adrien figured there would be no better time and asked, “Ladybug, what happened?”

Despite the vagueness of the questions Ladybug understood exactly what Chat was referring to.

“It’s nothing you did, Chat,” Ladybug said. She swallowed. Even though she was looking down in his general direction, Ladybug’s mind was far away. She was biting her lip, as if she trying to work through a jigsaw puzzle or chess game.

Ladybug took a deep breath. “It’s my fault, Adrien. I’m sorry I’ve been such a bad friend.”

“Don’t—” Chat Noir stopped when he processed the exact words she had used, and realized what she had called him. “How—and how long have you known?”

“Since September 6th,” Ladybug said. Chat released his hand and sat up as she continued to explain. He sat cross-legged while she sat on her knees facing him. Her left and his right shoulder were almost touching, and they were just about eyelevel with each other. “You texted me, saying you would patrol later. I saw you transform in the park at the tail end of my patrol.” Ladybug turned away from him, to look out towards the Paris skyline. “Adrien Agreste. I recognized you not because of your modeling, but because I knew you from real life. It honestly just freaked me out too much. I’ve gotten more used to it now.”

Adrien mulled over this new information. He knew Ladybug’s civilian identity? Was she from school? The two piano competitions he did? Chinese school? Modeling? Fencing? And she had been uncomfortable with him, for some reason. Did he come off as unapproachable? Not nice?

As if sensing his concern Ladybug turned to face him again. Her eyes glittered like stars in the moonlight. “You told me you’re different under the mask. I have to disagree. You’re the same Adrien, mask or no, in all the ways the matter.” Ladybug quickly looked down to the rooftop where they were sitting. “I guess now that you know I know, it’s only fair that you know too.”

_Oh._

_You’d be disappointed in clumsy old me,_ Adrien remembered her saying. _Is that what she was the most worried about?_ “No. Don’t,” Chat Noir said. “Ladybug, it would be nice to know but, at the end of the day, I don’t care who you are under the mask, because you’ll always be you, no matter what. You don’t have to tell me who you are if you’re not comfortable with it. I trust you completely. We don’t have to trade secret identities, because I know you’ll keep mine safe. You already have.”

Ladybug looked up at him with an expression he couldn’t quite pinpoint. They sat there, staring at each other, for a long time. Finally, the side of Ladybug’s mouth quirked up briefly. “Thank you. I think I will tell you my identity, Chat.”

Adrien’s jaw dropped. “You don’t have to.”

“I know.” Ladybug placed a hand on his shoulder. “Just, wait a bit longer.” Ladybug got up and held out a hand, which he took, and she pulled him to his feet. “You really aren’t hurt?”

“I’m purr-fect,” Chat Noir said with more confidence than what he actually felt given the circumstances. Ladybug released his hand.

“I’ll see you soon, Chat,” she said as she disappeared from the rooftop.

Adrien spent most of that night and the next morning in a daze, thinking about Ladybug (which wasn’t anything new, Plagg pointed out). He greeted everyone at school, but remained largely quiet. Word of yesterday’s incident had spread, which caused a few more stares his way than usual, but otherwise, the morning was off to a normal start (right down to Marinette being late for school, slipping into class two minutes after the bell had rung).

Adrien gathered in the cafeteria for lunch with the same group as yesterday. Marinette came up to him and presented him with a white box with the logo of her parent’s bakery printed on it.

“Looks fancy,” Adrien commented.

“It was nothing. My mom was happy to do it. Although I did help make the sandwich,” Marinette said. “The box was just the most convenient way to carry it.”

After a thankfully peaceful lunch Marinette grabbed his arm and stopped him as he was walking back to class. “Adrien, do you have time after school? I need to talk to you about something.”

“Uh, sure Marinette,” Adrien said. Marinette’s request was said in a strangely sober manner. Luckily, he didn’t have a shoot tonight, and there was a half an hour between fencing practice and school ending.

“Okay,” Marinette said. “Could you meet me in the park near my house? Technically, it’s near your house too. But don’t tell Alya or Nino or anyone else. You’ll understand why later.”

“Sure,” Adrien said in his usually cheerful tone. He took notes as mechanically in his afternoon classes as he did in his morning classes. He kept playing back his conversation with Ladybug last night, but he wondered about Marinette’s request too. Maybe she wanted to plan a surprise party or something, which was why it needed to be kept a secret?

When Adrien asked Nino after class was over, he informed Adrien that Marinette had already left. The Gorilla was waiting for him right outside of school. Adrien instructed him to take them to the park before the short drive to the fencing club, and he complied. Marinette was waiting for him, pacing around nervously by a park bench.

“Hey,” Adrien said.

“Hey,” Marinette squeaked. “Um, actually, we can go to my room if you don’t want to be spotted. I just remembered about the cameras and everything.”

“Good idea,” Adrien said.

Adrien thanked Sabine and Tom for the lunch as he walked in. They were surprised, but pleased to see him. Marinette said something about filming a project together, and that they would be upstairs for less than half an hour because that was when Adrien had to leave. Marinette was handed a full platter of croissants anyway.

Adrien followed Marinette up the stairs. Marinette told him he could  sit in the chair by her computer as she shut and locked the trap door. She then moved to be a meter in front of him and looked at him with such a fierce, serious expression on her face that Adrien waited in silence.

“I had the hugest crush on you in _collège,_ ” Marinette began. The flurry of words that followed came as such speed that Adrien couldn’t do anything but listen until it was over. “Ever since that time you lent me your umbrella and I realized how kind you were—that I had misjudged you. It was such a bad crush. I fell so hard, I could barely get a complete sentence out in front of you. Alya told me you were under the impression that I didn’t like you very much, but it’s the exact opposite.

“I decided at the beginning of the year to get to know you better as a friend, and I’m really glad I did. Part of the reason was because of how much we hung out over the summer. But, I really decided to start getting to know you properly because one night, I saw you transform in the park, Chat. I saw you transform, and my brain just about broke, and I was just really confused about everything. Then, last night happened, and you told me you trusted me, and that I didn’t have to tell you my secret identity, which is why I’m doing this now… Adrien, I’m Ladybug.”

For the next few minutes Adrien stared at Marinette in dumbstruck.

Once Marinette realized Adrien wasn’t going to say anything, she continued. “I know it’s a lot to take it. It was why I avoided you for so long. I’m really sorry about it. You’re my partner with the mask and a really good friend without it, and I didn’t want to lose any of that. If I kept treating you so terribly, at least one of those things would happen. Well, now you know. Ladybug is just me.” Marinette sat down on the floor, cross-legged. “Oh, and if it helps, I don’t have a crush on you anymore, so we don’t have to be awkward,” Marinette added in a hurry, red in the face.

Plagg chose this very moment to emerge from Adrien’s bag. “Not awkward? Please, for you kids it’s within the realm of impossibility. It was almost painful to watch the two of you go around in circles. By which I meant it was incredibly amusing.”

“Plagg,” Adrien said weakly.

“I-is that your kwami?” Marinette asked. As if on cue, a small red blob with black polka dots popped out of the pink coin purse Marinette always kept on her person.

“I see you haven’t changed, Plagg,” the red creature said. “It’s nice to finally meet you, Adrien. My name is Tikki.” Tikki smiled pleasantly at him. Not fair. Ladybug got the cuter kwami, and the one with the better personality.

“Nice to meet you too,” Adrien said instinctively. “So, Marinette, you’re Ladybug.” He said it more for himself, as if hearing the words in his own voice would make everything less shocking. Marinette nodded, and Adrien visually catalogued the girl before him. The slight frame, the blue eyes, the side bangs and pigtails. He pictured a red mask on her face, and thought about how she had acted in all the akuma attacks in recent memory. Always confident, clever, ready to take charge.

“I feel like an idiot,” Adrien admitted. “How did I not see it before? You even have the exact same hair style.”

“You feel like an idiot because you are one,” Plagg supplied. “It was so obvious.”

“Plagg is only saying so because he can sense the presence of other kwami, and therefore their hosts,” Tikki said. “It is an ability of all kwami. As Ladybug and Chat Noir your identities are distorted so that you can’t be recognized easily by other humans.”

“That information makes me feel slightly better,” Marinette said. “I felt just as stupid for not realizing sooner. Once I knew, everything made so much sense. You, always running off during akuma attacks.”

“You, always being late for class.” Adrien shot back.

“It’s crazy, isn’t it?” Marinette mused. “Magic and secret identities and supervillains.”

“Yeah.” Adrien realized how liberating it was to be able to talk about the existence that was Chat Noir in his civilian identity. “I don’t know if you noticed, but Chat Noir has a pretty huge crush on Ladybug, or so I heard.” The words came out with an edge of flirtatiousness that was natural on Chat, but he had never used as Adrien. He was startled, hearing himself talk that way.

“You make it pretty obvious, Kitty,” Marinette said with a smug look that was so Ladybug.

“So…” Adrien forced himself to ask before he lost his nerve. “You like me?”

Marinette (and this was all Marinette now, because he had never seen Ladybug this flustered) hesitated. “As a friend, certainly. As more, I honestly don’t know anymore. I thought about it. I’m still thinking about it. When I had the die-hard crush on you, I looked at you in a way that made it hard to get to know the real you. Now, I think I know that person.”

“I think it’s fair to say that you know me better than anybody,” Adrien said, as his phone buzzed.

“Oh, you have to go to practice.” Marinette remembered, standing up.

“I’m going to be a mess in fencing today, thinking about all of this,” Adrien muttered. He wanted so badly to stay. To abandon his obligations and stay in Marinette’s room, talking to her about not just _them,_ but about _everything_. He wanted to run through everything that happened in the past two and some years with a fresh outlook and Marinette next to him. He needed time alone to mull over things, but he also wanted to remain in her presence.

Marinette sensed his reluctance to leave and offered a hand to help him up. He took it, and kept hold of it as they faced each other.

“Hey,” Marinette said, looking up directly into his eyes. “It’ll be okay. Whatever else we are, you’ll always be my friend. Go.”

Adrien grabbed his bag and climbed down, Marinette following behind. When he got to the first floor of the house, he bid Marinette’s parents goodbye and thanked them for the food once again. As he was walking to the car he heard Tom exclaim “He didn’t eat a _single_ croissant?!” Marinette’s response was too quiet for Adrien to distinguish the words.

That night, prior to patrol, Adrien sent Marinette a text.

**[Adrien Agreste @ 22h04]**

**I’m glad it’s you.**

Adrien surprised to have a message waiting for him when he checked his phone right before heading out the window as Chat.

**[Marinette Dupain-Cheng @ 22h05]**

**Me too.**

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There it is! My version of the ID-reveal ^_^ The plot starts picking up in the next chapter.


	5. High Summer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The main plot thickens. Also, how Nino got his miraculous.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter turned out way longer than I originally planned.  
> I am very happy about all the kudos I received for the last chapter. As always kudos make my day better. ^__^  
> I hope you enjoy reading.

 

**Present Time**

It was nearly noon when Adrien woke up the next morning, still exhausted from the previous night’s shoot and a recurring nightmare he may have been having about his father. After getting ready and dressed, he found a Danish on the kitchen island next to a note from Marinette. It said: _You can practice making your own coffee. If you fail, there is OJ in the fridge._

After breakfast (he had gulped down one cup of the sludge he had managed to concoct, sweetened with a ridiculous amount of creamer), Adrien started on unpacking the rest of the boxes. Marinette had done so much already that Adrien guessed he could get them completely moved in by the end of the day. He had finished organizing the bookshelf and was halfway through hanging up the remainder of his clothes when his phone rang with an actual call.

Adrien went into his room and grabbed his phone. It was Alya. “Hello?”

“Oh, so now you’re finally up,” Alya said. “The rest of us have been at work for hours. Check your Facebook messages, or better yet your email. I have to call Mar while trying not to get caught chit-chatting by my boss.”

Alya hung up with a click. Adrien checked his email first, because the two Facebook groups he primarily participated in were disorganized, to say the least. “Press & Co.” in particular had evolved into a hodgepodge of gifs and daily conversations that consistently changed topic.

In his inbox was an email from Alya with the subject line “Saw it this morning, thought you would like to know” that was sent to Adrien, Marinette, and Chloé. Adrien opened it. Pasted into the email was a picture. It was a grainy paparazzi shot of Adrien and Chloé. He recognized what they were wearing as clothes from the gala on Friday. They were on the balcony and from the angle of the shot, the other two girls present at the time were largely obscured from view. Adrien realized the exact moment the picture must have been taken, when Chloé had leaned in to whisper into his ear about Marinette.

The headline below the picture read “Sparks fly between Mayor’s Daughter and Teen Model?!” Adrien’s first thought was _ugh, gross,_ and apprehensively clicked on the link. The proceeding article was short. It listed their names and ages, and emphasized that the two of them had gone to school together. It remarked that they had arrived at the party and reportedly left the hotel together. The last part of the article was blatantly untrue. The article said nothing too terrible considering the stratosphere of the media it occupied. Of course, there was the expected speculation that they were dating.

In recent memory, Adrien remembered rumors that he was dating a Saudi oil heiress he had met once at a party (who had been fairly nice but not interested in talking to him beyond practicing her French) last week, and the Scottish model he had shot with last month (they had eaten lunch together on the set). Usually, the rumor-of-the-week regarding his love life made Marinette laugh, if she paid attention to it at all. But this time it was different because Chloé was a friend, and, given their past, it might hit too close to home.

Chloé had responded to Alya’s email around seven in the morning. “Absurd. We’re both so much prettier than what the picture shows. & the shade of my dress is completely wrong.” Alya responded with her own speculations to when Adrien himself would wake up.

 

Adrien was ninety percent sure Marinette wouldn’t get annoyed at him for it, but that last ten percent made Adrien nervous. He finished going through his box of clothes, by which it was a few minutes past one in the afternoon. Adrien figured Marinette would be on lunch break by now and called her.

 

\--

 

Marinette had found out about Adrien’s latest tabloid headline much earlier that morning. After getting dressed she checked her phone before running out to get breakfast, and found an unread text.

 

**[Chloé Bourgeois @ 07h03]**

**Crazy morning, huh? Now there are more flames to either fan or put out. Sorry. What do you want to do?**

 

Marinette typed her response as she walked out the door. She had pastries in the house leftover from her visit to her parents’ last night, but they were out of fruit and coffee creamer.

**[Marinette Dupain-Cheng @ 07h09]**

**I’m going to need more context.**

**[Chloé Bourgeois @ 07h10]**

**Check your email.**

 

Marinette had found five emails from work that she would have to look at soon enough, as well as one from Alya in her inbox. She suspected it was the email being referred to, as she saw Adrien and Chloé as the other recipients. What, did the paparazzi get a shot of them at that gala and suggest they were dating, again? Marinette skimmed the email. Yes, apparently.

**[Marinette Dupain-Cheng @ 07h12]**

**What is this, the fourth or fifth time you guys might be dating? I’ve lost count.**

**[Chloé Bourgeois @ 07h14]**

**I can’t bother to keep track anymore. I can barely remember all the people _I_ have been romantically linked to because I stood next to them at some event or another.**

**[Marinette Dupain-Cheng @ 07h18]**

**There was that Australian model/actor for you last week, wasn’t there?**

**[Marinette Dupain-Cheng @ 07h18]**

**Although I think Adrien’s got you beat in terms of frequency and creativity.**

**[Marinette Dupain-Cheng @ 07h18]**

**Leave the rumor. It sucks, but it’s nothing I haven’t heard of before.**

 

Marinette left the store after she made her purchases. On the way she passed a newsstand that had the tabloid with the picture of the hour on display. At least it wasn’t the headline, which was about some American actor and actress.

 

**[Chloé Bourgeois @ 07h20]**

**Adrien’s got me beat because he actually does stuff for his fame.**

**[Chloé Bourgeois @ 07h20]**

**The weirdest one to date may be that rumor about him and Alya.**

Marinette remembered that one from a few months ago, when she, Adrien, Alya, and Nino had gone on what was essentially a double date to Disneyland over spring break. Alya had been recognized from the Ladyblog with Adrien when the two had gone to get food. As far as Marinette could tell, the press was very interested in the elusive model’s life, especially when he was standing next to anyone somewhat famous. Marinette was tempted to tease him mercilessly for it, but held back because she knew how much it bothered him.

 

**[Chloé Bourgeois @ 07h21]**

**Funniest: Adrien and Ladybug.**

 

Marinette tried to repress a smile as she felt her face flush. She sent a text to Alya alerting her best friend that she had seen the email, and they got into a similar discussion that soon transitioned into Alya’s play-by-play account of her boss’s ridiculous demands for the day.

When it had surfaced sometime in February, the “Adrien and Ladybug” rumor, which was fueled by another photo, was quickly and intentionally debunked by Alya. According to her best friend, who made it her business to scope out forums and the like about all things relating to her friends, it was also the most disbelieved by both Ladybug fans and Adrien Agreste fans.

 

**[Marinette Dupain-Cheng @ 07h23]**

**In addition to Adrien and fangirls, we should have a code phrase for Adrien and dating rumors.**

Marinette left a Danish out on the kitchen island on a plate with a cover and a note. Adrien had such a crazy schedule yesterday, she’d let him sleep. She gave Tikki a cookie, who thanked her for it, and told the kwami about everything happening that morning.

“Wow Marinette. It’s not even 8AM yet,” Tikki said.

“I should hope not,” Marinette replied. “I have to be at work by then. Which means I have to leave now, or I’m going to be late.” Marinette tried looking around for Plagg to offer him some cheese, but Tikki informed her that Adrien’s kwami was in his room, and probably also asleep, so Marinette decided to leave it be.

**[Chloé Bourgeois @ 07h26]**

**How is it that you, as Marinette, have never been subject to the rumors? I mean, really?!**

**[Marinette Dupain-Cheng @ 07h28]**

**Because it’s actually true, and I’m careful for that reason. Alya tells me there is a secret betting pool on when #Adrienette, as she calls it, will be revealed to the public.**

 

Marinette tried to be apathetic to all the craziness surrounding her boyfriend because she knew what the truth was and what wasn’t. In addition, given the cutthroat nature of the fashion industry, the last thing she wanted was to give anyone reason to doubt she was good enough to be there. Trying to get her foot in the door was hard enough. A significant other who was born into fashion royalty would lead to people making assumptions about her that she did not need.

Marinette got to work ten minutes before 8AM, thankfully on time. She texted Alya and Chloé about her location, asking them to keep the messages to a minimum for the next four hours at least. Being regular correspondents with both of them at the same time had not only given her thumbs regular exercise, but made her glad to be on an unlimited mobile plan. She greeted Amalia and a few of the other workers when she got to the fifth floor, then sat at her desk. Marinette checked the other emails she had received to double check what she was assigned for the day (which were sure to turn into her assignments for the week).

When Marinette was at the workshop, she compartmentalized everything else going on in her life into a separate section of her brain because being Marinette with her friends had gradually become synonymous with being Ladybug with her friends, and she couldn’t risk a slip-up. She came off as friendly but distant to most of her coworkers. Protecting Ladybug was more important. Thus, she was miles away from thinking about the picture, rag article, and upcoming meeting with Master Fu when she overheard a coworker mention “Adrien Agreste” halfway through the morning. Marinette couldn’t remember her name, as they had never been formally introduced, but she seemed to have a slight addiction to celebrity gossip. Amalia had come over and politely inquired about it. Marinette merely smiled and told her not believe everything she read in the tabloids. They proceeded to discuss the beading that would have to be done for this week’s gowns.

Marinette was put in charge of constructing a number of bodices with the added _insanity_ of hand sewing chiffon after she had finished cutting the patterns (yeah, this assignment was going to take close to a week). She drew and cut out the patterns in groups of five and stitched the base with the machines, then worked on the finishing on the dress form, before cutting out the next five patterns. Marinette was beading the fourth bodice after having sewn them all when she noticed her phone buzz next to her machine in the way that indicated it was an actual call, and not some notification, so she paused her work. She was shocked to see it was already past noon. Adrien was calling.

Marinette answered the phone, wondering if something had happened while he was unpacking the rest of the stuff. “Hey, you’re finally up.”

“I heard about the photo,” Adrien said. “It’s not true, by the way.”

It took Marinette a moment to remember what Adrien was referring too. “I know. I’ll screenshot you what Chloé texted me about it after the call. Have you been unpacking?” She got up and grabbed her bag. She could take her lunch break about now, she reasoned, and walked to the elevator, leaving the noise of dozens of sewing machines running behind.

“Nearly done. Thanks for the breakfast. I did try to make coffee.”

Marinette laughed. “And how did it turn out?”

“I drank it. Most of it, anyway.”

Marinette cursed just as she reached the lobby, which got her some strange looks she promptly ignored.

“What?” Adrien asked from the other end of the line.

“I just remembered I forgot to pack lunch,” Marinette said. “Hmmm.”

“Want me to meet you?”

“I’d love that, but it would take you twenty minutes to get here, and I don’t want to take more than one and a half for lunch. I have so much work to do.”

“Call Alya,” Adrien suggested. “You both have insanely busy schedules to eat around.”

“Good idea,” Marinette said. They talked for a few more minutes before hanging up. Alya was totally up for lunch, and Marinette got the okay to meet her in her office. She then sent the screenshot to Adrien, as promised. Adrien texted back.

 

**[Adrien Agreste @ 12h14]**

**Why must there be code phrases for all my awkward situations?**

**[Adrien Agreste @ 12h14]**

**Thought you would like to know what Chlo was telling me when the picture was taken. She’ll never admit it to you.**

 

**[Adrien Agreste @ 12h15]**

**She called you her hero, Marinette.**

**[Adrien Agreste @ 12h17]**

**She said that Ladybug was always her hero, but in so many more ways you saved her too.**

Marinette had a feeling that Adrien wasn’t only referring to Chloé.

 

**[Marinette Dupain-Cheng @ 12h19]**

**You get the code phrases because you make it too easy, Kitty. +you’re right, she would never say those words to my face.**

 

Alya met Marinette at the ground floor of the building where her newspaper’s office was located. She threw her arms around Marinette and they kissed each other’s cheeks.

“Girl, I got us Turkish food from that place right there,” Alya said. Marinette looked at where Alya was pointing, and spotted the restaurant across the street. “Come upstairs.” Alya dragged Marinette up three flights of stairs to the floor the newspaper office occupied. When Alya opened the door Marinette instinctively took a few steps back.

The two were assaulted by a clamor of people shouting and the click-clack of typing. A few people looked up, registered Marinette’s additional presence, and went back to work. Two guys Marinette guessed were also heading out to lunch passed them as she and Alya walked through the door.

“This environment is intense,” Marinette managed to say as Alya directed them to her desk. It was a tiny cubicle with a desk and swivel chair. There was a notepad on the desk and newspaper clippings in piles and pinned to the walls of the cubicle. Two containers were stacked onto the chair. Alya rapidly moved some of the papers aside so she could sit on the desk, and then took one of the takeaway boxes from the chair. Marinette picked up the other box, took a seat on the chair, and set her bag down at her side. There were several fans in the room, but no air conditioning. No wonder Alya complained so much in the afternoons.

“I’m sure it’s no more intense than what you’ve got on your end,” Alya said.

“It’s different.” Before opening her lunch Marinette paid Alya back for the food. While she was putting her wallet away she made a show of rummaging through her tote. She opened a package of two chocolate chip cookies. Tikki peaked out of Marinette’s bag and greeted Alya cheerfully before retreating into Marinette’s bag and enjoying her lunch.

Alya and Marinette chatted over döner and little boxed cartons of apple juice. They tried to come up with codes for Adrien’s awkward situations, but nothing really stuck. A few minutes in, a guy a few years older stopped by Alya’s cubicle and smiled at Marinette.

“Who’s your friend, Alya?” He asked, winking at Marinette, who scowled.

“She’s taken, Jerome,” Alya said icily. “Why didn’t you ask her yourself since she’s right in front of you?”

“She wouldn’t be interested anyway,” Marinette added.

 

Alya laughed. “Girl, we may need a code for you too.”

“If I have you to always help me out, I’ll be fine.” Marinette stabbed a piece of meat and lettuce with her fork. Alya’s technique to dealing with their unwanted visitor was to ignore him. As she worked with him and had interacted with him more extensively, Marinette trusted Alya knew what she was doing and followed suit.

“Nino told me his parents have warmed up a little more to the idea of his gap year,” Alya began. “His little brother doesn’t quite get the concept, and keeps asking if he can skip school too. Nino finally got the idea to explain it like he was doing house chores to get a small allowance for the foreseeable future. In response his brother said: “Sounds boring. I would rather go to school. At least there, I don’t have to wash dishes.” The kid isn’t entirely wrong, since Nino is part-timing at a restaurant. He told me he was on shift when the restaurant was hosting an event where there were ice sculptures. Some guests with lighters found a bottle of hairspray. You can guess how well that went. Security had to throw those guys out, but there was already a huge puddle from a poor, decapitated swan.” By the time Alya had finished her tale, Jerome had left.

Marinette leaned in to be closer to Alya. “Is that guy always that way?”

Alya scowled. “He flirts with any girl that comes in. Especially the ones he has no chance with, but he doesn’t seem to realize it.” She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear before counting off on her fingers. “I had to completely shut him down what, five times before he would leave me alone. He only really got the message after I had Nino pick me up with flowers this one time. Convenient as it was, it sucked that that was what it took.”

Marinette let out a breath and brushed her bangs out of her face for a moment. “My male co-workers are perfectly nice, and perfectly uninterested in me. Plus, the building is much better ventilated.”

“Oh, don’t remind me about the heat,” Alya lamented. “I don’t know how I’m going to deal come August. I heard that there was a massive amount of cooling pads ordered, but those are so that the large computers don’t overheat. We humans have to suffer.”

“Looks like our robot overlords are one step closer to world domination,” Marinette said as she felt her phone vibrate. It was a text from Adrien. “Adrien’s father wants to meet him for a late lunch,” Marinette said. “He’s not sure what he should do.”

“What do you think he should do?”

Marinette conspicuously glanced at Tikki in her bag. No one but Alya was close enough to notice.

“He’s asking you for advice, Marinette, not any of us,” Tikki said.

Marinette finished the last of her lunch before answering. “I think they should meet,” she said in a small voice. “He can’t keep running away forever, even if it sucks at first. He did informally agree to meet with his father once in a while as a condition to being able to move out.” Marinette looked at Alya pleadingly.

“What Tikki said,” Alya responded. “She’s an ancient god. She knows what she’s talking about.”

Marinette texted Adrien back. After another twenty minutes, Marinette headed back to the atelier.

 

\--

 

There were three more boxes left to unpack when Adrien received instructions from his father via a call from Natalie. He had followed Marinette’s advice and confirmed lunch reservations, and was unsurprised when Natalie had picked up and greeted him more warmly than anything he had ever hear from his father. Before, his father’s behavior had pricked him like thorns. Now, Adrien was slightly relieved by his father’s distant nature, but relief didn’t make the wounds hurt less.

“At least wherever you go for lunch will have a fine selection of cheese,” Plagg said as Adrien put on a white button down and slacks. He didn’t need to be too formal, but Adrien figured the restaurant would draw the line at his arriving in the boxers and _Avatar: The Last Airbender_ T-shirt he slept in.

“You literally just ate,” Adrien said, but stopped further commentary. He had heard that Raafa and Duusu weren’t eating as much in the same way that Tikki and Plagg weren’t as talkative. He would let Plagg eat as much as he wanted. “Though if you are hungry by the time lunch is served, I’ll make sure to sneak some Camembert for you.”

Plagg made a satisfied noise as Adrien put on his shoes. He motioned for Plagg to hide under his shirt (which made him miss his school bag, as putting Plagg in there was easier), and headed out.

The restaurant Natalie had arranged for them to meet at was in Le Grande Paris, for no reason other than, Adrien guessed, that Gabriel Agreste’s familiarity with the owner made getting reservations on such short notice easier than going to any other five-star establishment in the city. When Adrien got there he was informed that his father had not arrived yet, but was still ushered to their table.

Adrien ordered a side of cheese, requesting it arrive even before the meal and his father if possible. The waiter gave him an odd look, but complied.

To pass the time, as he never knew quite how long his father would keep him waiting, Adrien pulled out his phone and looked at his frequently contacted list. Marinette was first, naturally, but she and Alya were in the middle of work, and it wasn’t the weekend or nighttime, so Adrien decided to leave them alone. Which left Nino and Chloé in terms of people he texted out of the blue. There were a few other people he knew from modeling (Clement, Hale, and Wendy) that he maintained casual friendships with, but he hardly ever talked to them outside the context of the industry. Adrien texted Nino and Marinette, and got a response from Nino first.

 

**[Nino @ 13h03]**

**Dude, you woke me up.**

**[Adrien Agreste @ 13h04]**

**?? And I thought I got up late.**

**[Nino @ 13h06]**

**I stayed up working on a track, which turned into multiple tracks, and then it was dawn.**

**[Adrien Agreste @ 13h08]**

**You have patrol tonight.**

The waiter arrived with a small dessert plate containing two pieces of Camembert. Once his waiter turned away, Adrien slipped both pieces to Plagg, who had seated himself at the edge of Adrien’s chair, hidden by the white tablecloth. Adrien ignored the raised eyebrow he got from the waiter when he returned less than a minute later to fill the two glasses with water and, subsequently, to take the dessert plate away.

**[Nino @ 13h09]**

**Yea, don’t worry, I got it.**

**[Adrien Agreste @ 13h10]**

**What track?**

**[Nino @ 13h11]**

**You know, I would invite you to the venue I’m playing Friday night given what a camera magnet you are, but I won’t, for the same reason.**

**[Nino @ 13h12]**

**Unless you’re okay with leaving a moss pit with five new alleged love interests.**

**[Adrien Agreste @ 13h13]**

**So you heard about it?**

**[Nino @ 13h14]**

**Hard not to, Mr. Trending Topic.**

**[Nino @ 13h14]**

**Don’t worry, it will be yesterday’s news soon enough.**

**[Adrien Agreste @13h15]**

**You mean by tomorrow?**

**[Nino @ 13h16]**

**Dude. You’re just as bad as you were in high school.**

**[Adrien Agreste @13h17]**

**You mean I’m clawful?**

**[Nino @ 13h18]**

**OMG WHY DOES MARINETTE PUT UP WITH YOU**

**What’s worse is that the puns have not actually gotten better. You would think that after so long they would have evolved just a little bit.**

**[Adrien Agreste @ 13h20]**

**Haha**

**I have to go. Father’s just arrived.**

Adrien set his phone on the table and stood up as the usher seated his father. Adrien sat back down after Gabriel was settled. “How are you, Father?”

“Things have been busy due to the preparations to open a flagship store in L.A.,” Gabriel said as he sipped his glass of water. No apology for being twenty minutes late. Nope, all business.

Adrien let his father order for both of them. They started with porcini flan, made with crab and black truffle dashi. Gabriel Agreste continued to talk as they ate.

“I was disappointed that you refused to accompany me to London, but your attendance to the mayor’s gala is an adequate excuse,” Adrien’s father said. “You are still well acquainted with the mayor’s daughter?”

“Chloé is my friend, yes,” Adrien said warily.

Gabriel Agreste nodded. “She will be a valuable ally to have, so long as her father remains politically favorable, and she behaves herself. You are planning on continuing modeling, I assume?”

Adrien bit back commentary about Chlo, and his father’s entire philosophy of treating friends like business acquaintances. Marinette had risen in “worthiness” in his father’s books after she had been accepted into _École de la chambre syndicale._ Nino and Alya had yet to be acknowledged by his father, despite their consistently hanging out with him for years.

He was unsure about the modeling. For now, he was doing it because it had become relatively easy, and paid incredibly well for the time it cost him. Adrien did not know if he would have started modeling in the first place if his family had not been so involved in the industry, and he had not grown up around it. When he had first started, there was the usual talk about how he only booked gigs because he was Gabriel Agreste’s son. Such an idea was preposterous, because anyone who worked with Gabriel Agreste understood the strictness he applied to all aspects of his life, especially his fashion empire. Gabriel wouldn’t have let anyone near a clothing campaign if he didn’t think they were more than good enough. Especially not his son. If anything, modeling had been more difficult because of his connections. From the average model, Gabriel Agreste expected a solid performance. From Adrien, Gabriel expected perfection.

“For now, I am,” Adrien said.

Their second course was beef with blue kale and gnocchi, which Adrien knew was also going to be their last one because his father always declined to eat dessert.

“How is your roommate doing?” Gabriel asked.

“Marinette, who has a name, and also happens to be my girlfriend, is doing fine, thank you for asking,” Adrien said. “She just started her internship at Balmain. It’s a lot of work, but she’s enjoying it. I’m sure you understand that part of the industry better than I do.”

Gabriel paused for a moment, before continuing to stab kale and a piece of beef onto his fork. “Balmain, really? Before even enrolling in school?” Adrien forced back a smile. His father was impressed, for once. Gabriel hid it well, but he was impressed.

“She’s at the atelier a lot,” Adrien added. “They trust her with commissions.”

“It would be good if she were to continue such a trajectory.”

Adrien though so too, but for what he guessed were entirely different reasons than why his father was interested in Marinette’s budding career. He just wanted Marinette, and everyone else important in his life, to be happy. They were going to be happy chasing their dreams. Meanwhile, Adrien was modeling while planning on enrolling in ENS Paris for physics because he wasn’t sure what exactly he wanted to do with his life. Who came up with the ridiculous idea that a person had to have their professional life goals plotted out by the time they were eighteen, or even earlier at fifteen and entering _lyc_ _èe_ , anyway?

After his purely opportunistic blessing for Marinette, Gabriel gave Adrien a summary of his plans for the company for the next two quarters, including which countries he would most likely be in at which dates.

“If you need anything, Natalie will be remaining in Paris for the entire time,” Gabriel said. “Contact her.”

“Understood, Father.” Adrien spent the remainder of lunch relaying his own schedule for the summer, and his plans for the fall semester. While listing his bookings and detailing his plan for self-study in order to get ahead in class, Adrien tried to catch sight of _a reaction._ A twitch of the face, an intensified gaze, a clenched jaw, at any length of time when Adrien was in front of him. For the team’s safety, Adrien wanted to be sure that no slip of memory remained about his time as Hawkmoth in Gabriel’s mind. However, the longer he scrutinized his father, the longer it felt like he himself was getting poked and prodded by sharp, hot instruments. He was beginning to think that Nino was right, and it was better Gabriel didn’t remember. Better for Gabriel, at least. It was another experience for Adrien to stand in his father’s presence and recall every confrontation he’d ever had with Hawkmoth in his mind as if it were condensed into an action/thriller biopic with a large dose of teen angst, while his father looked back empty.

Maybe the worst part was how everything they had done seemed to change nothing in terms of Gabriel Agreste’s apathy. If Gabriel had remembered his time as a supervillain, it would have been a great excuse for his father’s general behavior. Instead, Adrien was left to contend with his father as nothing more than a man. Without the magic, the superpowers, and the desire for miraculouses hanging over him, Gabriel Agreste still embodied Hawkmoth’s worst traits.

Gabriel Agreste checked his watch. “I have a business meeting in forty-five minutes across town, and my flight for New York leaves tonight.”

Adrien rose as he was expected to, and watched his father get up.

“Have a safe flight, Father.” On cue, Plagg slipped under Adrien’s shirt. He grabbed his phone from the table and followed his father out. Gabriel nodded to his son before stepping into his limo. He had taken out his phone, and was so absorbed with whomever he was talking to on it, that he didn’t even see Adrien wave, much less wave back.

Adrien was annoyed at himself for always being slightly crestfallen after meetings with him.

 

\--

 

**A few weeks ago**

 

Master Fu sipped his tea out of his clay _chawan_ and listened to the four teens retell what had just happened with Hawkmoth in stony silence. When they had finished, Celeste placed what was formerly Hawmoth’s brooch on the table. Ladybug was visibly shaking. Chat Noir placed a hand on her shoulder, to which she offered him a weak smile.

Master Fu stood up as he instructed them all to sit down. The four of them had been so high-strung from battle that they hadn’t noticed they were standing up the entire time. The teens shuffled around the low circular table until they were all seated. Master Fu returned with four _chawan_ and a full pot of tea atop a rectangular wooden tray.

“I would have served you children tea earlier, but I couldn’t really get a word in edgewise,” Master Fu said. He set the table and filled their cups before sitting back down. “Why don’t you all de-transform?”

Honeybee laughed nervously as Ladybug explained. “We did, after the fight, because we’d all used our signature techniques. It felt too weird though, to be wearing our normal clothes after everything that had happened. So we transformed back.”

“It got us here faster too,” Chat Noir added.

 

Celeste released his transformation first, quickly followed by Honeybee. Then Chat Noir did. Ladybug blinked as she faced Nino, Chloé and Adrien. With a deep breath, she changed into Marinette. Tikki joined the other kwami on the table.

“First things first,” Master Fu said as he examined Tikki closely. He made thoughtful noises as he pet the kwami, his own kwami, Wayzz, hovering nearby. “Not to worry, Marinette. Tikki is tired, but otherwise perfectly fine. She did not absorb Volpina, or anything like what you feared. Neither did you.”

Master Fu examined Plagg, Raafa, and Duusu as well. After a few minutes he cleared his throat. “Everyone in this room is fine.”

“Drink your tea before it gets cold,” Master Fu advised when the four of them remained silent and unconvinced. Robotically, they all drank because it gave them something to do. It was plain green tea that Adrien thought had an additional earthy taste.

Marinette set her empty _chawan_ down. “Then what happened to Volpina?”

Master Fu cleared his throat. “I cannot say for sure, as what you decided to do was… unprecedented. It was also exactly what I advised against. You four went ahead and did _everything_ I told you not to.” Adrien looked around guiltily. His three friends had similar expressions.

Master Fu relented a little. “Somehow, the results weren’t catastrophic,” he admitted. “Invoking the kwami to have greater possession of the host like you did has been done before. It allowed you to tap into power from the quantic realm. You took a calculated risk, Marinette. From what you all observed, it seems it paid off.”

Master Fu picked up the butterfly brooch and weighed it in his hand. “It seems Nooroo has been restored to his miraculous without harm. As I’ve explained before, there are usually only two scenarios which result in hosts severing their bond to miraculouses, and the kwamis linked to it. One, both the host and kwami willingly agree to give it up. Given the criteria used in kwamis’ selection of their hosts, this first scenario usually doesn’t happen for years. Two, the host dies.”

“You select the miraculous holders,” Nino said. “You’re the guardian.”

“I may heavily influence who the miraculouses come in contact with,” Master Fu explained. “But the kwami never bond with someone they are not suited for. They are the ones who ultimately accept or reject their host. They do only get one shot at their choice. Once the decision is made, they’re stuck with their host, even if the host himself changes, and becomes someone unsuited to be a miraculous holder.”

Adrien stared down into his empty tea cup. “My father didn’t willingly agree to part with Nooroo, but he’s still alive.”

“With conveniently no memory of his time as Hawkmoth,” Nino added.

“His memory may still be determined,” Master Fu warned. “As for how he is still alive, what Ladybug did was create a third option. A wildcard, if you will. She managed to break the bond forged between Gabriel and Nooroo without it costing Gabriel his life. To do so, a balancing measure was needed. Separating an unwilling host from a miraculous has been done so infrequently over the millennia, it is something of a legend. I’ll review the books again, but I know that it’s only been achieved a handful of times, if at all. Every single time, it has been a result of ceremony. Usually, an entire team of at least four people invoke greater possession together, and under the kwami’s collective efforts, the tainted bond can be broken.

“Since Ladybug, with the power of creation, was the only one to invoke greater possession to break the bond, Volpina must have also been needed as an additional counterweight,” Master Fu suggested.

“I didn’t—I mean, I didn’t know that’s what would happen. Is Trixx dead?” Trixx was the kwami attached to Volpina.

“If a god had died we would all know it, and we wouldn’t be sitting here right now.” Master Fu refilled their tea, as well as his own cup. “Trixx is alive. All your other question, I cannot answer for certain. I’d have to do more research. You said Volpina broke into pieces?”

“Sixteen,” Marinette supplied.

Master Fu took a long sip of tea before responding. “You still had that aura around you, like you were under greater possession when Volpina disappeared, yes?” Marinette nodded. “It is likely that Volpina broke as the counterweight, and is now returned to the quantic realm. Your bodies become more closely linked to there during greater possession. If Tikki was bonded to you enough, I imagine that a kwami could use it as a portal.”

“So the butterfly is okay, but Trixx isn’t?” Chloé asked. “Not fair.”

“It’s very fair given the nature of magic,” Master Fu said somberly.

“What happens to Trixx if the necklace is broken?” Adrien asked.

“I don’t know.” Master Fu stroked his chin. “These are all variables I’ve never had to contend with before, in all my time as Guardian. I will have to do a lot more research, and will let you know. For now, try to appreciate what you have accomplished. Isn’t it almost graduation?”

As Master Fu was about to get up and go to the back room with Wayzz, Nino spoke. “If Nooroo is okay, why hasn’t he appeared yet?”

Duusu answered his host’s question. “A kwami can only take a corporeal form in this realm when it’s miraculous has a user. The fact that Nooroo has not appeared—and all of us kwami would be able to sense it if it had—is a sign of Noorooo being truly free from his host. He won’t appear again until the butterfly gets a new host.”

“Nooroo’s probably missed the quantic realm,” Tikki mused. “He deserves a break after everything he’s been through.”

“It must be horrible, having your powers abused by a wayward host,” Raafa said.

During the kwami’s discussion Master Fu had left the room and returned with an octagonal black lacquer box. “Nooroo will be safe here, at last,” Master Fu said. Gently, he placed the butterfly brooch in the purple compartment and closed the lid.

 

\--

**Present Time**

When Marinette got back to the apartment it was 6PM, which she took as a good day. Amalia had warned her that the schedule would only get more hectic as time wore on. Once the front door shut behind her, she let Tikki fly out of her bag. She paused at the doorway at the sight of Adrien working through his copy of _War and Peace,_ which was leather bound, and had actually been his mother’s. He was staring past the book, not really focused on anyway when Marinette caught him. There were still a couple cardboard boxes open but not completely empty.

“How bad was it?” Marinette set her bag down on one of the chairs by the kitchen island after taking out her phone, and sat down next to Adrien on his left.

“I don’t think he remembers anything,” Adrien offered, a sardonic twist to the statement the team had been so relieved to be able to say. Marinette put her arms around Adrien, and leaned her head on his shoulder. Marinette had never been so grateful for the parents she had, with their generosity and unconditional love, then after she and Adrien had become close friends, and later started dating. She became privy to how truly _cold_ his household was. His father was a one-way road to ruin, able to receive but never return warmth. Adrien, with no other point of reference, had always been pleasantly surprised at Tom and Sabine’s sweetness. At the way Nino’s parents joked around. At how Alya and her siblings constantly got on each other’s nerves, but were quick to forgive, and made Alya laugh until her sides hurt. Whenever Adrien came over for dinner with her parents, he always treated the attention and love he was showered with like a luxury that could be lost or taken away from him at any minute. Marinette imagined growing up under Gabriel Agreste’s thumb may have easily turned him callous and bitter and entirely _not him_ in another universe. Adrien’s mother must have been as brilliant as the sun, given how kind her son turned out.

“I’m sorry,” Marinette whispered, as she didn’t know what else to say. Marinette had quickly learned that Adrien always set his expectations with his heart and not his mind, although he liked to pretend otherwise.

“You didn’t do anything wrong. You have nothing to be sorry for.”

Marinette ran her fingers through his hair. “I know.” She rose and offered him a hand, which he took. Marinette pulled Adrien to his feet. “You’re nearly done unpacking. I’ll start dinner.”

Marinette crossed over to the kitchen as Adrien flattened the last of the boxes with more force than was probably needed. Over jasmine rice, a side dish loaded with broccoli, cauliflower, and chicken, and some leftovers which Marinette had intended for today’s lunch, Adrien told Marinette details about his meeting with his father. The two of them talked, like they always did, until they were giggling over nothing specific. By the time they set out for patrol together Chat was his usual annoying self again.

 

\--

**Three Years Ago**

Adrien spent his week off following the strict schedule his father (or Natalie, it was probably Natalie) set out for him. He and Marinette messaged each other so often Adrien was even talking to her more often than he talked to Nino on some days. During patrols Ladybug and Chat Noir had returned to their easy banter. Adrien found himself smiling to himself at random instances, thinking of something Marinette had done or Ladybug had said. Being Chat Noir was again the better part of his days, but being Adrien wasn’t bad at all.

The Monday they returned from break Adrien greeted Marinette with a cheerful wave.

“Hi Marinette.”

“Hey Adrien.” She didn’t stutter at all. Her mouth was turned up in one corner, her eyes holding the mirth of a shared secret. “Hey, Alya. I was working on the pants you requested just this morning. Let me show you a pic. What do you think of the pockets?” Marinette moved quickly to talk to Alya, but her interaction with Adrien had not gone unnoticed by her best friend. Alya pulled Marinette aside and started talking to her in hushes tones while gesturing wildly.

“Dude, you seem pretty cool with Marinette,” Nino said as he slung an arm over his shoulder.

“Yeah, she’s cool,” Adrien said with a shrug. “I mean, we’re friends.”

Nino patted his shoulder and winked. “Bro, you know what I mean. She can actually talk to you now.”

“Oh, yeah. Actually, she talked to me over break.” Adrien knew he couldn’t say _I found out she’s Ladybug, who happens to still be the girl of my dreams, oh, and it all makes more sense when I also tell you that I’m Chat Noir._ Yet Nino would be suspicious of Adrien and Marinette’s sudden closeness if he didn’t get an explanation. Adrien talked in a low voice. “She told me she used to have a crush on me, but is glad to be my friend. So now, we’re just friends.”

Nino blinked and grasped both of his shoulders tightly. “Hold up. _Marinette_ _told you she likes you?”_ Nino started chucking. “Dude, it’s about time.”

“She very distinctly emphasized the past tense. She _had_ a crush on me. She _used_ to like me,” Adrien said with a sigh and then paused. “Wait, you knew?”

“Oh, Adrien. Oh man.” Nino elbowed him in the ribs and slung an arm across his shoulder. He was trying to stifle more laughter. “Marinette did not hide it well. Everyone knew. Everyone but you, apparently. Though I have to say I didn’t really figure it out until Alya and I started dating. It was that day at the beach, actually. But, afterwards, it was painfully obvious.” Nino patted Adrien’s back. “So past tense, like she’s over you now? What did you do?”

“I don’t think it was anything I did.” Marinette had been very adamant about that detail, and Adrien always trusted her to be honest. He had spent the week mulling over her words to him at the same time he was talking to her regularly and getting reacquainted with the Marinette he knew was Ladybug. Plagg had off-handedly commented that it was just his luck he would get involved in something as ridiculous as a love square with two people in it. _What shape it is now is up for debate,_ the kwami added with a chuckle. “It was all her. When she told me, I kind of felt blindsided, but I’m okay now.”

Nino gave him a sympathetic look. “What about you?”

“Pardon?”

Nino didn’t respond at first, his judging look telling Adrien his best friend expected him to know the meaning of his vague statement. When Adrien remained perplexed Nino rolled his eyes and elaborated. “Do you like Marinette?”

Adrien scratched the back of his head. “I hadn’t really thought about it until she told me.” He had always been too absorbed with Ladybug. Now, after Marinette had seamlessly integrated herself into his life, and he had gotten used to interacting with Marinette nearly as often as he did with Ladybug, he was uncertain. “It doesn’t matter now, does it? We’re friends. It’s good enough. I’ve never had this many friends before.”

Nino looked aghast at Adrien’s last statement, but before he could say anything it was time to head off to class.

Later, Adrien caught Marinette in between classes. “I told Nino very vaguely that you admitted you had a crush on me, got over it, and now we’re friends,” he said in a low voice with a hand on her shoulder.

Marinette turned her head to her left to look directly at him. “Um, I told Alya the same thing. If she says anything weird to you though, don’t take it seriously. She’s just being dramatic”

Adrien dropped his hand to his side as they kept walking. “Weird?”

“Don’t worry about it, Kitty.” Marinette gasped at her slip between identities and quickly added. “Sorry, sorry. I won’t call you that name again when you’re Adrien.”

Adrien chuckled. “Don’t worry about it, Bugaboo,” he said in a lower voice so they wouldn’t be overheard.

Alya, surprisingly, did not confront him during lunch. She was, however, conspiring with Nino in hushed tones. Over what, Adrien wasn’t sure he wanted to know, but had an inkling he would find out eventually no matter what. She may have been more talkative if she weren’t trying to photo edit for her blog on her tablet while eating lunch at the same time.

“Someone spotted Ladybug and Chat Noir last night on patrol, and managed to snap a picture,” Marinette explained between bites of her sandwich. “The person emailed those pictures to Alya. She’s trying to see if she can get more details on their secret identities from them.”

The pictures were granny and dark, but taken at a surprisingly good angle. It was taken when Ladybug and Chat Noir happened to be passing each other during patrol, and showed them going in opposite directions across a rooftop. The camera person must have been in the building across the street, by a window that had been level with them.

“Luckily the magic prevents people from making the obvious connection,” Marinette continued. “Tikki told me. I don’t know if the rules apply to Alya though. She can be incredibly persistent.”

Adrien became more accustomed to the rhythm he had developed with Marinette. For the sake of their shared secret he learned to separate the nights he spent on patrol as Chat Noir, running into Ladybug often, and the days he spent in school with Marinette nearby. Compartmentalizing his identities was something he had always been doing, but knowing Ladybug (and Marinette) was somewhere nearby added a certain sweetness to it. They got good at maintaining a casual, friendly repertoire outside of the masks. As Adrien and Marinette, the only reference they made to their other life was through knowing looks and brief, one-off sentences that would be impossible to decipher out of context, said in hushed tones to each other or through text.

Twice when there was an akuma during school hours, Marinette had used the bathroom excuse. Both those times, Adrien had opted to simply disappear without explanation. The class had just assumed she ended up as one of the civilians turned into nutcracker-zombies or plush toys respectively. Another time, Adrien had gotten trapped as a civilian by the attack of the akumatized person. He’d used the opportunity to create a distraction so Marinette could sneak away. Ladybug had returned to swiftly defeated Hawkmoth’s latest victim and Adrien had front row seats to appreciate how brilliant Ladybug was in battle.

The third attack had happened a few days before winter break, and had prompted Alya to speculate about Chat Noir’s complete absence from battle. Alya wrote one blog post reporting what exactly she had witnessed during the attack (giant prisms made with an imitation of solid-colored glass, the wrath of an insulted shopkeeper of luxury housewares). It was quickly followed by several others, which mostly consisted of meta about Ladybug’s answers to Alya’s questions and what Chat Noir could have possibly been doing or where he could have been located to miss the akuma attack. Alya had asked Ladybug where Chat Noir was, to which Ladybug had replied “I’m sure he’s fine.” Adrien had to admit he was mildly impressed by Alya’s estimating 49 hours between his being sighted in Paris and the farthest distance he could have been to be absent for the akuma attack.

Alya had tracked Chat Noir down a few days afterwards, asking about his absence during the last attack. Adrien had given a vague response about having to help someone else, followed by compliments about her blog and letting her know that he had never been to Denmark. When Alya had started asking about the other countries, Adrien had made up some lame excuse and sped off.

Adrien’s modeling schedule had cooled down in November and December, which left him with marginally more free time. However, the holiday season was one of the busiest times for his father. Adrien expected he wouldn’t be seeing much of Gabriel until the end of fashion week. If he wanted to know what continent Gabriel Agreste was even on at any moment, he could contact Nathalie.

An upside of his father’s absence was that Nino could come over, as Nathalie and the Gorilla both took some pity on him, and would not tell Gabriel about one “unapproved” houseguest. Nino had spent a good chunk of his vacation visiting family in Morocco, where the weather was reportedly better. He returned to Paris after New Year’s, and planned to spend one entire glorious day playing video games at Adrien’s house instead of starting the holiday homework like he probably should have.

“I bet you have that homework all done,” Nino said as they started Halo.

“I was made to finish it on the first two days,” Adrien said. “Wasn’t allowed to do anything else until it was completed.” Adrien left out that he had even guilted Marinette into finishing her homework in three days instead of leaving it for last minute.

They played Halo for two hours before pausing to eat snacks. Instead of returning to the game, Nino got distracted showing Adrien all the Pokémon he had caught on Pokémon Go walking around in Rabat. Nino then burned some incense in-game, trying to attract Pokémon to Adrien’s room as he wandered around. Although he had been there once before, Nino was still taken aback by the fact that he had a rock climbing wall, skateboard ramp, and TV there.

“Hey, what’s this?” Nino asked, pulling a book from the shelf. Adrien looked up from his phone. (Marinette was texting him about a jacket she was working on, which reminded him of the beanie he had gotten from her for Christmas, which somehow matched the one cool birthday present he had ever gotten from his father perfectly.)

“Hey, that—” It was the book. Or rather, the imitation of _the book_ he had swiped from his father’s safe. Somehow, Gabriel Agreste hadn’t noticed yet. The one with the drawings of people in costume, two of them looking precariously similar to Paris’ masked heroes. Adrien still wasn’t quite sure what the book meant. He wasn’t surprised his father would have purchased an old, rare book, as the mansion was an admission ticket and overpriced café away from being an art museum, but he found it odd that that particular book was kept in the safe. Alternatively, the book could have belonged to his mother.

It was an imitation of the book he had gone and lost. Adrien had scoured the interwebs and talked to bookbinders to find a physical bound book similar to the book he had lost. With approximate dimensions and soft red leather embellished with gold, the outside of the book was as close as he could remember.

“It’s blank,” Nino remarked as he flipped through it.

“I’m working on that bit,” Adrien said. “The book is meant to replace this other book of my father’s that I lost. I’m not sure where my father got the original, and I’m too scared to ask, because it may have been my mother’s,” Adrien admitted. At Adrien’s words, Nino slowly lowered the book onto the desk nearest the shelf as if it were a precious gem.

“Wow, man.” Nino looked up at Adrien, and then back down towards the book. Adrien pocketed his phone and walked over to where Nino was.

“It’s blank because I’m not quite sure what to put in it,” Adrien admitted. “I don’t quite remember what was in the book because I only skimmed it briefly. Plus, there were pictures in it. I’m surprised Father hasn’t noticed it’s gone yet.”

Nino’s eyes widened. “Gone like you nicked it from a locked desk draw or something?”

“Actually, I took it from his safe,” Adrien said.

“What’s going to happen to you if your father finds out you lost it?” Nino asked. “Will you be placed under house arrest? Will you be shipped off to boarding school in Switzerland? Will I ever see you again?”

“The fake book is supposed to prevent Father from finding out.” Adrien frowned. “And aren’t you being overdramatic? I don’t think Father is that strict.”

“Oh Adrien.” Nino put a hand on his shoulder. “Take it from someone who has normal, loving parents. What your father does is strict. Most kids don’t have to wait fifteen years to get their first birthday party.”

The genuine concern in Nino’s voice made Adrien smile. “I’ve figured out the combination to the safe, actually,” he said. It had taken Chat Noir’s hyper-sensitive hearing, a lot of internet research about the make and model of the safe, and a couple months of patience. “I was going to put it back once I worked out what to do with the pages.”

“Hey, does the outside look just like the original?” Nino asked thoughtfully.

“It’s nowhere near the original. At a passing glance, if Father was focusing on anything but the book, and didn’t look too closely for too long, it would be okay.” Adrien sighed. “It was the best I could do.”

“Do you think you’re going to be able to do anything convincing to the inside?” Nino asked.

Adrien’s shoulders slumped. “Probably not.”

Nino picked up the red book. “If you can get into the safe, let’s put it back now.”

“What?”

“If this version is as good as it’s going to get, what are you waiting for?”

It was probably a stubborn hope that Adrien could remember something else, anything else, about the book besides the vague imprints in his memory, like out-of-focus pictures. He glanced at their abandoned Halo game, then nodded.

“You are so going to thank me for saving your life if your father does ever open that safe,” Nino joked as Adrien led him to his father’s study. Nino glanced furiously around the hallways, taking in the shiny decor. He let out a low whistle after they entered the study and were standing before the Gustav Klimt-inspired portrait of his mother.

“That is a lot of gold for one picture.” Nino then added in a gentler voice, “You look a lot like your mother, Adrien.”

“Thanks,” Adrien managed to croak out. He swung his mother’s portrait to the side and started turning the dial of the safe behind it. The combination, once he had figured it out, was etched into his brain with the same flair of hurt and tenderness that accompanied anything related to his mother.

Gabriel Agreste had chosen a basic, ten-number combination safe. There was no retinal scan or fingerprint pad because the security surrounding the mansion was so intense. Nino stood next to him, the book tucked under his arm. He was gripping the binding with increasing intensity. Plagg had flown up Adrien’s shirt, and was perched on the shoulder farthest from Nino, whispering further instructions in an uncharacteristically helpful manner. Nino was so absorbed in watching Adrien’s trembling hands turn the dials that he didn’t notice Plagg at all.

The lock made a reassuring click, and Adrien pulled the door open. Nino handed Adrien the book. Adrien peered into the safe. On the top shelf where the book had been, there was still the portrait of his mother, a book on Tibet, and a brooch in the pattern of peacock feath—

Adrien almost dropped the book. Instead, he hugged it to his chest with one arm like a shield. _No way. It can’t be happening_ , he thought as he watched the brooch glow. The light emitted made the brooch resemble a plain white fan. Floating in the air slightly above the brooch was a small creature. It had antennae and feathers protruding from its head and longer limbs than Plagg. Its scales were a shock of bright blue. Its tail resembled peacock feathers, with dark pink eye-spots. A Bindi-like dot in the same shade of pink was on its forehead, centered between its eyes. Adrien took a few steps back and pushed Nino back with him. A low, husky voice spoke.

“Hello, my name is Duusu—”

Adrien slammed the door to the safe shut as Nino yelped. Nino questioned what he just witnessed with several colorful explicates.

“Nino, you have to be quiet,” Adrien said. “We’re not even supposed to be in here. We need to get back to my room.” He ignored the rest of Nino’s slightly-quieter freak-out and pulled out his phone.

Adrien cut in immediately after she picked up. “Mar, we have a huge issue. Are you busy right now?” Nino was wide-eyed and silent on their brisk walk back to the room once he processed Adrien’s words.

“I’ve just been working on that jacket, but nothing urgent.”

Adrien breathed out a short-lived sigh of relief.

“Did something happen?” Marinette asked.

Adrien shut the door behind him once he and Nino had returned to his room. “So there’s this book I kind of stole from my father’s safe,” Adrien started. He paced around the room as Nino stood stiffly for a few moments before deciding to sit on the couch. Nino made no move to pick up the controller. Without really things about it, Adrien ended up walking circles around the couch. “It turned out to have information about Miraculouses, but I lost the book. I’ve been working on getting something similar to replace it with in the safe. Nino found it, and we decided to put it back five minutes ago even though it’s only got blank pages. The safe also contains a brooch shaped like peacock feathers. When I opened the safe the brooch started glowing and a kwami appeared as Nino was standing next to me. I closed the door, with the kwami and miraculous still inside, and Mar, if it is what I think it is, I’m going to have to tell him.”

Marinette replied after a few seconds. “Holy shit.” Another pause. “I’m coming over to your house right now. Tell Nino now, before I get there.”

Adrien hung up the phone and put his face in his hands.

“Adrien?” Nino’s voice shook.

_Better tell him now before he gets even more scared,_ Adrien thought.

“Okay, when you freak out, you’re going to have to do it quietly, because we can’t have Nathalie coming up here,” Adrien began as he paced back and forth behind the couch. He took a deep breath and twisted the silver ring around his finger, but did not remove it. He stopped pacing and stood directly facing Nino. He curled his hands slowly into fists. Nino turned and dangled one arm off the back of the sofa. “I’m Chat Noir,” Adrien blurted out. Before Nino could say anything Adrien shouted “Plagg, _Transforme-moi_.”

Nino stood up, completely frozen as Adrien transformed into Chat Noir. Chat Noir continued talking as if nothing had happened. “That blue thing you just saw was a kwami. A mystical being usually contained in a miraculous. The silver ring I wear all the time is my miraculous. When I transform into Chat Noir, Plagg, my kwami, goes into the ring.” Adrien detransformed, after which Plagg floated around in plain sight of Nino.

“Do you have any cheese to feed me?” Plagg asked. Nino was still too stunned to reply.

“When a kwami is contained inside a miraculous, it will only appear before a host it choses,” Adrien continued. “It seems that brooch was a miraculous, and its kwami has chosen you, Nino.”

Nino was still too stunned to reply when there was a tap on Adrien’s balcony door. It was Marinette, fully transformed into Ladybug. Adrien went over to the window and let her in. She noticed Plagg floating neat Nino’s head, trying to bite one of the ends of Nino’s headphones. (Nino was sentient enough to swat him away.) “So you told him?”

“About Plagg and the miraculous,” Adrien said. Ladybug walked to the computers, where Nino was standing still.

“How are you taking it?”

“This… this is crazy,” Nino managed to say. His voice rose again to a near yell. “Are you someone I know too?”

“Actually…” Ladybug smiled awkwardly.

“What? No!”

Ladybug de-transformed into Marinette. Nino fell back, missing the couch. After a brief pause he slumped his shoulders, and decided to stay seated on the ground.

“Adrien is Chat Noir and Marinette is Ladybug,” Nino muttered to no one in particular. He looked up, eyes blazing. “Does anyone else know about this?”

“You’re the only person I’ve told,” Adrien said.

“We didn’t even know each other’s identities until recently,” Marinette said. Her kwami, Tikki, bobbed between the three of them.

“How did it work out that way?” Nino asked as he watched Tikki and Plagg with frightened but curious eyes.

“I didn’t want to tell Chat Noir who I was because I didn’t think it was safe. It’s still not safe. If Hawkmoth finds out either of our identities…” Marinette straightened up and spoke with the confidence that made her former class president and a literal superhero. “It took over a year, but we both realized it eventually.”

“I found out in November, right before break,” Adrien offered.

Nino looked back and forth between them. “Everything makes a lot more sense now,” he said. “You both keep disappearing during akuma attacks.”

“Hello, my name is Tikki,” the spotted kwami said, smiling. “It’s nice to meet you, Nino.”

“Nice to meet you too.” Nino’s response was trained and automatic.

Tikki turned to Adrien. “You mentioned the peacock miraculous over the phone? Where is Duusu?”

“Adrien left him locked in the safe,” Plagg supplied. “It was the best thing he’s done all day besides give me cheese for breakfast.”

“Duusu’s locked in a safe?” Tikki asked, horrified.

“We can go get it right now,” Adrien said. Marinette offered a hand to help Nino up, which he took. Quietly, the three of them made their way down empty corridors until they reached his father’s study. Unlocking the safe was easier the second time. When it swung open, Adrien saw a streak of blue brush past him and bump into Nino’s glasses.

“Hello, my name is Duusu,” the blue kwami said. “Please do accept that brooch. It is yours now.” After receiving a nod from both Adrien and Marinette, Nino gingerly picked up the peacock brooch. “Tikk! It’s been too long! How are you?” Duusu continued. “Plagg, you haven’t really changed.”

Adrien had been in his father’s study more times today than he usually was in half a year. The room, even with his mother’s beautiful portrait, was ice cold and unnerving. Adrien wanted to spend as little time there as possible.

“Wait,” Marinette said as Adrien was about to close the safe. Adrien turned to Marinette, and noticed she was carrying the red, leather-bound book he had left on his desk. “You have to put this in the safe, remember?”

“Right.” Adrien replaced the book in the safe as Nino watched Plagg and Duusu argue. Nino was still holding the brooch in his hand like he wasn’t quite sure what to do with it.

“Guys,” Adrien said to the wayward group. “I don’t even like being in my father’s study when I’m allowed to be here, in his presence, and right now, none of us should be here. If Nathalie catches us, there is no way my father won’t be hearing about this.”

Nino and Marinette both shuffled behind him, and the kwami followed. Once they were all inside the safe confines of his room, Adrien locked the door behind him again. Nino unceremoniously sank into the swivel chair by Adrien’s computer monitors and put his head on the desk. Duusu started talking to him in a low voice. Plagg followed Duusu, just to get on the blue kwami’s nerves.

Adrien turned to Marinette. “I’m sorry you had to suddenly come over.”

Marinette shook her head. “It’s fine. As Tikki’s told me before, the kwami chooses the user. This, it may have been fated to happen. What happens after, though, depends on us.”

“Thanks for remembering about the book too,” Adrien added. “After all that trouble, I almost forgot why I opened that safe again in the first place.”

“You had a book made to replace the original?” Marinette asked in a small voice.

“I didn’t know what else to do after I lost it,” Adrien said. The words came pouring out of him easily, because it was Marinette, and it was Ladybug, and there was no one he could talk to more easily. “I wasn’t supposed to have it in the first place. I think there was information about the miraculouses in there, judging from the pictures. Now I guess I’ll never know.”

“You didn’t lose the book, Adrien,” Marinette blurted out. “I stole it from you. The-the day we fought Volpina.” Her face was ghastly pale while she talked and her eyes glistened, but Marinette looked directly at Adrien the entire time. “When you were in the park with Lila—Volpina, I snuck up from behind and stole it.”

“You’re the reason it went missing?” Adrien felt his stomach twist. “I spent ages looking for that book! I was terrified my father was going to open that safe and see it missing and start asking me questions I didn’t know the answers to. I had the duplicate made because I didn’t know what else to do. I’ve been in a constant state of panic over that book for months, and it turns out you had it?” Adrien’s breathing had become ragged and uneven. He tried to slow it down as he kept eye contact with Marinette. “Marinette, I trusted you. I always trusted you. Why did you think you could just take it from me like some obsessive stalker?!”

If Adrien had slapped her in the face, it would have hurt less. Marinette was looking at him with wide, solemn eyes and was blinking back tears. He had raised his voice to near-shouting levels (which he had never done in recent memory outside of the mask). Nino had even looked up from where he was completing his compulsory Q&A and reevalluating-everything-you-thought-you-knew-about-life-and-magic-and-the-rules-of-the-universe.

“Dude, you’re the one who told me not to freak out too loudly, and I AM BEING TOLD I CAN HAVE SUPERPOWERS NOW by this creature-god-thing,” Nino said in a rush. “It looks like a blue alien peacock, and its talking to me.”

“Oh, you’ll get used to it,” Marinette snapped. Nino sensed the tension between Adrien and Marinette and appeared to be contemplating leaving the room, or hiding under the desk. Duusu did something to catch Nino’s attention, and Nino went back to trying to acclimate to the idea of kwami and miraculouses. Marinette shut her eyes and spoke in a voice so soft Adrien had to strain to hear. “Yeah, I may have been a bit of an obsessive stalker. It was pretty bad.”

“Don’t blame Marinette for taking the book,” Tikki interjected, nudging Adrien’s arm. “She wouldn’t have done anything if I hadn’t pressed her. That book needed to be returned to its rightful owner. Whatever it was doing in your father’s safe, he shouldn’t have had it, just like he shouldn’t have had the peacock miraculous.”

Adrien swallowed. “I’d thought about why Father would have the book,” he said. He’d thought about it, and then stopped thinking about it, because one of the obvious conjectures was not a scenario he wanted to entertain. Adrien looked away from Marinette and out the window towards the Paris skyline. “Who else do we know who is obsessed with Miraculouses?”

The implication clicked in Marinette’s mind. “Oh.” She put a hand on Adrien’s shoulder. “I’m sorry. Not for taking the book, but for everything else. And the peacock brooch, being next to your mother’s picture… what do you think happened?”

“I have no idea,” Adrien said. “I didn’t know it was a miraculous.” His father being Hawkmoth was always a dark possibility he never wanted to begin to consider. Now, he didn’t have a choice. Marinette also brought up a good point about his mother. One, which, if given more time, he probably would have thought of too.

Marinette removed her hand from his shoulder and stepped away, glancing over a Nino.

“I’m sorry too,” Adrien said. “I didn’t mean to call you an obsessive stalker.”

Marinette’s smile was rueful, and didn’t quite meet her eyes. “Yeah, well.” She quickly changed topics. “Do you want to see the book? The original book. I gave it to the Guardian, the person who is meant to have it.”

“The Guardian?”

“I call him Master Fu. He takes care of the kwami and a lot of things relating to the quantic realm I can’t begin to understand,” Marinette explained. “He’s the one who chose us for our miraculouses in the first place. I asked.”

“Master Fu?” As Adrien spoke Marinette was already turning away and walking over to Nino, getting his attention.

“Nino, you’re coming with us on a field trip,” Marinette said. “Your day is about to get weirder.”

“Yeah, like that’s possible,” Nino muttered as he got up. Duusu hid in his pocket. “My brain feels like it’s about to explode.”

“Are you good to leave the house, Adrien?” Marinette asked as she transformed into Ladybug. Adrien wanted to stop her, to apologize again, to have some time to process his new knowledge of Marinette’s actions, but Ladybug wasn’t having it. She was being efficient, and knew exactly what she was avoiding. “Can the two of you meet me at my place?”

“I just have to tell Nathalie,” Adrien said. “We can say that Nino hasn’t finished his homework, and we’re headed over to your house because we’re both going to motivate him to do it.”

Nino groaned. “Don’t remind me, guys.”

Marinette left Adrien’s room the same way she had come in. Nino and Adrien got their bags and the two of them ran into Nathalie as they were leaving.

“Are you going to take the car?” Nathalie asked.

“It’s less than five minutes away on foot, Miss,” Nino scoffed. “Why would we need to take the car?”

“Alright then.” Nathalie said, her attention quickly diverting to her tablet again. “Let me know if you will be returning for dinner or if Ms. Dupain-Cheng’s parents will be accommodating you.”

Adrien and Nino met Marinette in front of her house. Her mother waved to them warmly in between customers. “I told my mom we’re going to the library,” Marinette said.

Adrien and Nino followed Marinette in silence. Marinette explained how Tikki had gotten sick and Marinette had met Master Fu for the first time. The second time had been to hand over the book. “I’ve only met him one other time since. He wanted to check up on Chat Noir, actually, and didn’t have any way to contact you without seeming suspicious, so I was the middleman. It’s been months since I’ve seen him.”

They took the metro for two stops and walked to a non-descript apartment building. Each apartment had a dark, wooden door. Marinette led them to one with the front door unlocked. She opened the door, and motioned for Nino and Adrien to go in first. The smell of burning incense assaulted Adrien as he walked into the room. Marinette shut the door behind them and locked it.

The room was adorned with Chinese hanging scrolls (he could recognize some of the characters), and contained a folding screen to the right of the front door, which was decorated with bamboo motifs. An old Chinese man in a Hawaiian shirt was sitting cross-legged on the futon on the floor. Behind him was a set of drawers made of dark wood.

“Good afternoon, Ladybug, Chat Noir, and Celeste,” Master Fu said. “I was wondering when you would all get here.”

Marinette sat down before Master Fu and Adrien and Nino flanked her sides. Master Fu turned to Adrien and spoke.

“Thank you for releasing Celeste, Chat Noir,” Master Fu said. “Another miraculous has found a worthy host.”

“Celeste,” Nino said. “I’m Celeste?”

“If you chose to accept the miraculous,” Master Fu said. He rose and went to a back room. When he returned he was carrying a large book bound with red leather. The book from his father’s safe. Adrien scrutinized the gold decoration across the cover, and was relieved to see he didn’t do a terrible job trying to find a duplicate from memory.

Master Fu sat down and set the book in front of him, orienting it so that Adrien, Marinette, and Nino were looking at it upright. “There have been several heroes throughout the ages gifted with powers from the quantic realm,” Master Fu explained. He turned the pages to the illustration of Ladybug and then the illustration of Chat Noir. The costumes were different, but Tikki and Plagg looked the same.

The next page he flipped the book to contained an illustration of Duusu. Adrien guessed the hero on the adjacent page was Celeste. The page showed a heroine with a plain black mask over her eyes dressed in green and blue. She had a sky blue scarf wrapped around her head, the loose ends hanging long behind her head. A matching sash was tied around her waist. Her loose-fitting top and balloon pants were jade green. She had armor around her calves and forearms, and under her shirt. It was made of small, rectangular pieces of wood, laid out to resemble scales. Her hands were bound, with a rope coiled around her left, and her right hand holding a portion of the rope closer to the bejeweled turquoise dagger than hung from it. The weapon reminded Adrien of the rope dart from Assassin’s Creed.

“Duusu has always been incredibly flashy,” Plagg said, floating out from Adrien’s bag. “Can’t pick a color; Can’t pick a single animal to assume the form of.”

“Oh yeah,” Nino said. “What animal will I be as Celeste? A bird? Something with scales?”

“Duusu has always had a confusing form.” Master Fu chuckled. “This book contains information about past forms of the miraculous users. Since antiquity the animals the other kwami base their forms on have always been straightforward. A ladybug and black cat, for example. Duusu has always been a wildcard. Some have called it a koi fish, or even a seahorse. Duusu was referred to as a dragon, at one point. And, of course, the peacock. You won’t know what your costume will look like until you decide to accept the miraculous.”

“Celeste was a girl in the past?” Nino asked.

“The kwami have had male hosts, and female hosts, and everything in between. It is inconsequential to them. They will take on the gender of their current host.”

“There have been male ladybugs,” Tikki confirmed. “I remember a host in Olmec times who was both.”

Master Fu examined Nino more closely. Nino, as if just remembering, took off his cap, which made Master Fu smile serenely. “The Guardian’s job is to primarily watch over the kwami. I have some input in selecting host candidates, but they are more like suggestions. At the end, it is the kwami who determine their host. I picked Adrien and Marinette for their kindness and good hearts. Tikki and Plagg agreed with me. Duusu selected you, Nino; for the same reason I probably would have.”

“My brain still wants to explode, but I have to say that it all sounds awesome,” Nino said, taking out the brooch.

“Wait,” Marinette cautioned. “You shouldn’t make this decision rashly. You’re going to have to keep your identity a secret from everyone except us, including your parents. You lose a lot of free time, and during every akuma attack you prepare for the worst and hope for the best.” Marinette tugged at her pigtails nervously as she continued. “It’s dangerous. The magic doesn’t make you invincible. Far from it, because you’re constantly looking for danger, and thus more likely to get hurt. What I’m trying to say is, I think it’s worth it, but it’s okay if you don’t.”

“You do have to give some things up,” Adrien added. “I usually chose sleep, yet Marinette’s the one who is constantly late.”

“I appreciate the concern guys, but I’m doing it,” Nino said firmly. He squared his shoulders and took a deep breath. “I’ve always looked up to Ladybug and Chat Noir. Now that I know it’s you guys, I admire them even more. Marinette, you said it was dangerous, but aren’t we also in danger every time there is an akuma attack? Even before the akuma attacks started, things were dangerous because you could get mugged or hit by a car on the street. Staying away from risk doesn’t necessarily guarantee safety. This is my chance to help. To make a difference, and I’m taking it.” Nino stood up and looked at Master Fu. “Do I have to put on the brooch before I tell Duusu to transform me?”

Master Fu shook his head. “The miraculous objects just have to be in the vicinity. That rule applies to Ladybug and Chat Noir too. It makes sense to keep the ring and earrings on, because nothing happens to them. The powerful nature of creation and destruction prevent the miraculous objects from changing form between transformations. However, I have known the objects attached to the other kwami to change form once the host is in costume.”

Nino looked around the room to the humans and kwami. “Here it goes then.” His fingers closed around the brooch in his right hand. “Duusu, _transforme-moi_.”

There was a flash of white light, and suddenly Nino was dressed in midnight blue. Adrien took it all in. Shoulder pads? An iridescent blue design of a bird across his torso? The brooch was gone from Nino’s hand, replaced with a staff with a glowing orb at its head. Adrien guessed Duusu had flown into the orb.

“You’re um, very shiny,” Marinette said as Nino tried to visualize his entire costume from whatever partial views he could get shifting his limbs and spinning around.

Plagg looked unimpressed. “Celeste was always a gaudy one.”

“Excuse me, your host has cat ears and claw mittens,” Nino said hotly.

“There have been more ostentatious outfits for Celeste,” Master Fu remarked. “I recall one that was inspired by samurai armor.”

“I remember that one.” Wayzz had spoken for the first time today. Adrien looked at the turtle kwami curiously. He had a stately air to him. “Very fetching. I believe that was the same time you had a mace, Fu.”

“You use a mace?” Marinette gasped.

“I have never,” Master Fu said. “Not for my miraculous transformation, at least. Celeste, there is a mirror behind the folding screen.”

Nino nearly ran there. “Woah, I look AWESOME. I guess I have prescription goggles on? You think ancient magic could correct my vision, but I guess not.”

Marinette giggled. “You know what’s going to be more awesome?” Adrien turned to Marinette with a questioning look as Nino emerged from behind the folding screen.

“What?”

“When you come out to patrol with us tonight and we figure out what exactly you can do with that staff.”

Nino stood up straighter. He looked both excited and scared. He looked ready to be a hero.

 

\--

 

**Present Time**

Marinette planned on spending the two work days before the group’s meeting with Master Fu as relaxed as usual. Which meant the typical level of hectic that came with her internship. Then, on Tuesday morning, Amalia had strolled past her desk and had given her a flyer.

“Something you might be interested it,” she had said. “If you don’t think it will be overtaxing. You also hear back from this contest absurdly fast compared to others. Probably because they only give you a week and a half.”

Marinette had thanked her and skimmed the flyer. _Fashion design contest. Open to greater Paris area. One entry per person. Age 18-25._ _€3000 grand prize. Haute Coutre ladies’ eveningwear made of renewable, sustainable materials. All materials must be purchased from KOKO VITA store._ After further research she found out the brand was an up-and-coming luxury retailer that emphasized the environmental impact of the industry. They had one wholesale shop in Paris, but plans for expansion were underway. The dress contest was obviously a self-promotion stunt, but it seemed legit. Furthermore, Marinette could really use the prize money if she did win, because school was expensive. Once she graduated from _lycée,_ Marinette had gotten increasingly conscious of how much she depended on her parents financially. She was grateful for their support, but felt it shouldn’t be their burden to bear. She wanted to cover her own costs as much as possible. Even if she didn’t win the contest, it might get her good exposure, and would be something to put on her résumé.

Even though the contest had just been announced yesterday, according to the flyer, the deadline was next Saturday. The rational part of her brain was telling her it would be too much in between patrols and her actual internship. Logic said she should enjoy the lack of akuma attacks by watching a movie or spending the weekend away or working on those pillows. Marinette mulled over the flyer throughout the morning. During lunch, she texted Adrien about it, and he was absolutely no help because his advice was basically “do whatever you think is best.”

It was too much. She would have to go to the store to get the materials, and find time to sew between more pressing obligations. If she could even come up with a satisfactory design. Then, during the afternoon, she started thinking about how she could even make something haute couture in such a short time. Beading and anything beyond simple embroidery was out. She would have to focus on draping. On the geometry of the garment. Something fun, versatile—to go with the theme, and futuristic in terms of wear, and the rules didn’t specify a dress, did they? Marinette sighed as the gears started turning and she realized she wasn’t getting out of this one. She texted Adrien furiously about her dilemma. He sent a smiling emoji and encouragement, which was sweet.

Marinette was going to enter the contest, which meant her next two weeks were going to have an extra dash of crazy.

Alya patted her head in mock sympathy Wednesday evening. She, Alya, and Adrien had met for an early dinner at the new apartment before their planned meeting with Master Fu.

“It sounds right up your alley of crazy, girl,” Alya remarked. “I’ll have to make sure you stay alive to collect your prize money.”

“Any ideas so far?” Adrien asked.

“I’ve been sketching out preliminary designs,” Marinette admitted. “I don’t think I’ll have anything solid until I actually know what cloth I will be working with. Adrien, are you free on Saturday?”

“Yeah.” Adrien said. “Want me to come shopping with you?”

Marinette grinned. “How could you guess?”

Adrien agreed, and Alya proceeded to tell them about her workday. They chatted until it was time to leave. Alya caught the train back to her house, while Adrien and Marinette headed to Master Fu’s place.

They were not the last ones to get there, surprisingly. Nino stumbled into the apartment about thirty seconds after them. Chloé looked up when they walked in. She had settled on the futon, sitting with her legs folded underneath in a white maxi-dress with her phone in hand. Marinette, who was wearing a pencil skirt, carefully sat down next to her. Maybe it would have been a good idea to change from her work clothes, but it was too late now.

“Are we not going to the back room?” Nino asked when he walked in and saw everyone parked on the futon. “The secret planning headquarters?”

“It is where the tea is set up, if you want to go back there,” Master Fu said nonchalantly. The four teens obediently moved. As Marinette stepped into the back room she was reminded of the last time the four of them had been in there. All of them battle-worn and absolutely terrified of their victory. She took Adrien’s hand under the table when they sat down. He must have been thinking of the same thing, because he gave her a grateful look.

“How is your father doing?” Master Fu asked as he served the tea.

Marinette gave Adrien’s hand a squeeze as he answered. “I saw him this week.” His voice was flat and guarded. “He really doesn’t remember anything. It’s as if he had been akumatized, but no one can tell him what he has done.”

Nino and Chloé shot sympathetic looks at Adrien. Adrien was entirely focused on Master Fu, all business. “What about the butterfly miraculous?”

“From what Wayzz and I can detect, the miraculous is completely cleansed of any influence from its previous host. It’s as if it has been reset,” Master Fu said.

“I accessed the quantic realm,” Wayzz said. All the other kwami, who were sitting by each person’s respective teacups, perked up significantly. “Nooroo is recovering from the entire ordeal. Slowly, but surely.”

“Wait, you can go into the quantic realm?” Nino asked.

“I can,” Wayzz confirmed. “As the Guardian’s kwami I have an ability to access the realm on my own, without having to do something as drastic as sever the bond with my host. Others do not have the same ability.”

“Wayzz also used his time there to check up on Volpina,” Master Fu said. “Specifically Trixx, as we know the kwami.”

“I did,” the kwami said. “I saw Trixx at its purest and most powerful. The true form of a quantic god is a sight that can only be seen in the quantic realm. As you know, Trixx’s miraculous was used as the counterweight for breaking Nooroo’s bond with Gabriel Agreste. It worked, but it still leaves the question of what will happen to the remainder of Trixx’s pendant. Trixx confirmed that it is trapped in the Quantic realm, unable to manifest as a kwami in this one. The research Fu and I did indicates its imprisonment is due to part of its essence being gone. Volpina is incomplete.”

“Kwami become incredibly bonded to our objects, whatever they may be,” Raafa said. “We essentially leave a piece of our soul in it. Without the pendant, Trixx has both lost its anchor to the human realm yet is not entirely whole in the quantic one.”

“Parts of Trixx must still be locked in the shards of the pendant,” Tikki realized. “We need to get them out! Trixx has to be made whole again.”

“We don’t even know where the shards went,” Duusu said.

Master Fu interjected, calming the kwami significantly. “We have reason to believe the shards will appear in due time.” He took a sip of his tea before continuing. “Volpina, in its current state is unstable. Pendant pieces with the energy of a stray quantic god will be even more powerful than akumatized people, who are restricted in their power by their humanity. Soon enough, the shards will manifest as akuma when left for too long. These akuma will not have a human host, but embody Volpina’s true form.”

“I don’t quite follow,” Marinette admitted. The others agreed. “The necklace shards will become their own akuma?”

“Hawkmoth was a miraculous user who lost his way,” Wayzz explained. “The power to akumatize people stems from the quantic realm, as does the power of any miraculous. What’s left of Volpina in each pendant piece wants to return home. It can’t. Not until it is purified by Ladybug’s power.”

“Instead, it will emerge as raw power,” Master Fu said. “Or so I believe. ‘Akuma’ may not be the right word for it, but I can’t think of a better equivalent.” Master Fu sighed, and rubbed his eyes. _He probably spent all of his spare time researching,_ Marinette realized sympathetically. “I don’t know when it will happen, but I called this meeting to warn you about it.”

“If they won’t be akuma attacks, what exactly are we to look out for?” Adrien asked.

Chloé spoke almost immediately after Adrien “It’s one of those horrid ‘you’ll know when you see it’ situations, isn’t it?”

“Do we simply try to fight it like a normal akuma when it shows up?” Marinette touched her earrings subconsciously.

“I wish I knew the answer to your questions, and the many more I have myself.” Master Fu looked out the window, where it was still light. “Once the first shard manifests, we may be able to track down all the others. For now, all we can do is wait.”

Marinette deflated slightly. Maybe it was a mistake, invoking the incantation. She certainly caused Trixx a heck of a lot of agony by destroying the kwami’s pendant. What if what would result from the miraculous breaking was worse? An akuma not tied to human limits sounded petrifying. It was all her fault.

Marinette felt Adrien squeeze her hand from under the table—right, neither had let go—stirring her from her thoughts. She looked up at him, and saw reflected in his face her own immediate concerns and general anxieties. She also felt a sense of calm wash over her. For the briefest second she wasn’t thinking about her internship or the design contest or the unspecified, probably headache-inducing events Master Fu predicted were to come. Instead, it was just her and Chat Noir, surrounded by chaos, with not knowing quite what they were getting themselves into. In other words, their normal, everyday life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For anyone who is curious, I named the bee kwami Raafa, the fox kwami Luhna, and the peacock kwami Ti'er originally. Two of those names have since been changed to reflect the new info released.


	6. The Waiting Game

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the present: Marinette does fashion things, and life goes on.  
> In the past: ID reveals.

Marinette picked out black cloth made from recycled plastic bottles à la Calvin Klein and Emma Watson. She had debated going with the scarlet, or a creamy white, but Adrien had pointed out that black was the most versatile color. There were several other people in the store who were likely also entering the contest. Marinette felt the smooth black fabric in her hands. It felt soft, but tough, almost like fine linen, but with more weight. She wasn’t quite sure what she would do with it yet. Adrien was with her, sporting aviators and a newsboy cap in an attempt to not get recognized. Mercifully, it was working so far. Marinette didn’t want to push her luck so, after selecting an ample supply of bobbins of thread and making her purchases, she and Adrien left the store.

“It should embody renewability,” Marinette whispered to herself. Adrien checked his phone and read off patrol times they were sorting out for the week. Marinette confirmed she could go from 10-11PM all week by the time they hopped onto the metro and headed back to the apartment.

Marinette stared glumly at the poster on her ride back. The paper was creased after being folded and unfolded repeatedly. The contest specified eveningwear but not a gown. The brand wanted to promote consumer-conscious fashion. “Hey Adrien, don’t you hate the neckties you have to wear at fancy parties?” Marinette asked.

Adrien looked up from texting Nino. “There is a reason ties and collars get systematically loosened as the night wears on,” he said.

“You mean besides people’s dates having a hand in it?” Marinette teased.

Adrien chuckled. “Well, they certainly add incentive, but I probably yank my tie and collar loose the first chance I get.” Adrien poked her head playfully. “Are the gears turning yet, LB?”

“We’ll find out,” Marinette said. She checked her phone compulsively while Adrien unconsciously played with one of the strands her hair, which she was wearing down with a beaded headband. Aside from the massive number of messages from the group chats her phone was constantly alerting her of (the reason she kept it mute most of the time), she saw a text from Alya.

 

**[Alya Césaire @ 12h26]**

**I just got an email from my boss. He wants me to do a spotlight piece on something “characteristic of Paris.” I was thinking of interviewing your parents about their bakery & business. Is it alright?**

**[Marinette Dupain-Cheng @ 12h32]**

**I’ll ask them for you, but I’m sure they’ll say yes. It’s free publicity for them.**

**[Marinette Dupain-Cheng @ 12h33]**

**Adrien is sulking thanks to you. He wants to know why you didn’t want exclusives on the four masked heroes if you wanted to write about what makes the city special.**

**He’s taking mock offense.**

**TBH I’m curious too.**

**[Alya Césaire @ 12h37]**

**I’ve been writing about you lot for years. I want to try something different.**

**Besides, some of my coworkers are convinced I only got the job because of all the hype surrounding the heroes.**

**As if I were only riding the bandwagon.**

**[Alya Césaire @ 12h38]**

**As if running a blog was less than “real journalism” because it isn’t in print.**

**As if the only thing I were capable of writing about is Paris’ heroes.**

**No offense. Love y’all, but Imma do things different.**

Marinette showed the texted to Adrien. He understood, on a deeper level than Marinette currently did, about wanting to prove people’s assumptions wrong.

 

**[Marinette Dupain-Cheng @ 12h41]**

**Mama and Papa will surely be over the moon. As if they don’t love you enough already.**

When Marinette passed Nino on patrol that night he made a joke about what they had to do to get Alya’s attention again. They laughed about it, but Marinette knew the miraculous users would have people talking soon enough. She was glad that, when it happened, Alya would be there to help curtail the consequences. Her blog would always be their one safe haven, no matter what the rest of the world had to say about them. Through Alya’s own perseverance, the Ladyblog had also become one of the most trusted sources for Paris’ vigilantes.

 

\--

 

**Two Years Ago**

 

Adrien and Nino did eat dinner with Marinette’s family that night. It was interesting watching Tom constantly tease Marinette in a boisterous, adoring manner. Sabine was firm, but gentle as she curtailed Tom and Marinette’s antics when they got out of hand. They were having bowls of _mifen_ , thin noodles that slightly resembled angel hair pasta. It was cooked with an array of vegetables, mushrooms, and chicken, all cut up into little bits. It was delicious, and came with the added fun of watching Nino struggle with using chopsticks. (Halfway through the meal he caved and accepted the fork Sabine had offered him since the beginning.) One faintly unsettling aspect was how much attention they showered him (and Nino) with. Unlike the kind he received in front of lightbulbs and camera lenses, the attention had no ulterior motives, no specific goals in mind, no schedule to follow. It was affection for the sake of it, in its purest form. It reminded Adrien of his mother’s voice and soft hugs to the point where he felt his skin prick.

“Dude, you’re staring.” Nino had leaned in to whisper into his ear, interrupting his thoughts.

“What?” He responded with a dazed expression.

Nino continued to talk in a low voice, so no one else could overhear. “You really had it that bad for Ladybug, huh?”

Realization dawned on him and Adrien felt his face flush. “That reason wasn’t quite why I was staring…”

Nino looked like he didn’t believe him. “It’s the one funny thing among the crazy.” He finished the rest of his dinner. “By the way, what do kwami eat?”

“It depends on the kwami,” Adrien explained as Marinette and Tom rose from the table and cleared everyone’s plates. “Plagg only eats cheese. Marinette says that Tikki only eats sweets. Mostly cookies, but sometimes cake and creampuffs. I’m sure Duusu will tell you. You’re going to have to feed him before you transform if you don’t want to burn out.”

Marinette and Tom came back carrying dessert plates. Dessert was miniature black forest cake. The wonderful food aside, Adrien was certain tonight’s dinner was a thousand times better than eating in his father’s spacious, elegant dining room alone. As Adrien and Nino left, Sabine assured them they were both “welcome back here any time.” Adrien thanked them profusely, which Nino didn’t quite understand until they were halfway to his house, which was on the way to the metro station, and Nino patted him on the back.

“Night, dude,” Nino said. “See you at ten.”

“We’ll pick you up in front of your house.” Adrien got his keys out and opened the front gate. By the time he reached the front door, Nathalie had noticed his approach and had Lydie, one of the housemaids, open it.

Adrien snuck out of his room ten minutes before 10PM after transforming and met Ladybug at the halfway point between their houses.

“Hey,” he greeted Ladybug as they made their way to Nino’s house by leaping across rooftops. “Marinette. I’m very sorry about what I said earlier.”

Ladybug, who was a few paces in front of him, at the edge of the building, stopped and turned around. “It’s fine Adrien, truly,” she said briskly. “I _have_ done some things of questionable moral fiber when it comes to you. Like, one time I stole your phone to delete a really embarrassing voice message I accidentally left on it, to start. I grave the phone right back though”

Adrien recalled a day he had lost his phone and looked for it frantically, before it seemed to have been eaten and spat back out by his bag. He was slightly off put, but he was also intrigued. “What did you say on the voicemail?”

The flurry of untranslatable sounds that Ladybug made reminded Adrien so much of an earlier version of Marinette, from back when he had assumed, incorrectly, that she wasn’t particularly fond of him. Adrien responded with his best Cheshire grin.

“W-words I didn’t want you to hear. So I deleted it—them. They are gone, from my memory.” Ladybug took off. Adrien chased after her until they reached the roof of Nino’s apartment building.

“I’ll forgive you for all past breeches of privacy and slight stalker tendencies,” Adrien offered. “If you tell me what you said on that voicemail.”

“That’s a hard bargain, Kitty,” Ladybug said. “I’ll think about it. First, I want to see what Celeste can do.” Ladybug used her yo-yo to descend to the street, landing in front of the building. Chat Noir followed.

Adrien saw Nino stroll out of his building casually, wearing a white quilted jacket. He walked to the small park across the street before acknowledging Ladybug and Chat Noir, who trailed him. “I think I’m getting pretty good at this espionage thing,” he said. “I just got through the building as if I didn’t totally sneak out of the apartment with my parents still awake.”

“What are you going to do with the brooch?” Ladybug asked.

“It’s in my pocket,” Nino said as he took it out. “It’s going everywhere with me, like my phone. ‘Cept I probably won’t drop the brooch into the toilet or on the floor as much.” Duusu flew out from under Nino’s jacket. “Duusu, _transforme-moi._ ”

 

Instead of the brooch Nino now held a 2-meter-long staff in his hands. He used both hands to twirl it, and looked completely floored by how fast and steadily it continued to spin. Chat Noir and Ladybug were even pushed a few steps back by the force of the wind. “How?”

“It’s the magic,” Marinette said. “You have enhanced agility and strength too. Although working out once in a while in your civilian form doesn’t hurt either.”

“Duusu told me I can fly,” Nino said.

“Really?” Adrien stared in disbelief. “That’s so not fair. I can’t fly.”

“I mean, it’s a working theory—if I don’t fall flat on my face and break all the bones in my body.” Celeste swung his staff around in a long arc. “This thing is so cumbersome, who designed it?”

“Maybe you can make it smaller, like I can with my baton.” Adrien took out his baton to demonstrate. “It’s also a com,” he added, opening up the com feature and ringing Ladybug up.

Ladybug grabbed her yo-yo and flipped it open to reveal Chat Noir’s face through the com. “We should be able to call you too, hold on.” Ladybug pressed another feature on her yo-yo, and Celeste felt a jolt come from his staff. After some hesitation he tapped the dragon head that surrounded the glowing orb Duusu had entered. A circular screen emerged, separated down the middle and showing Ladybug on one half and Chat Noir down the middle.

“The screen seems to meet my eyelevel no matter now I hold the staff,” Celeste said as the echo of his voice was heard from Ladybug and Chat Noir’s coms. “Now if only I could make the staff smalle—AHHHH!”

Ladybug and Chat Noir raised their heads to the cloudy night sky, tracking the human form that was getting smaller and smaller. Chat Noir and Ladybug turned their heads to face each other, and then looked at their respective coms. Nino was terrified, but screaming less loudly as the night sky surrounded him in the video feed.

“Wow, the com actually does follow your sightline no matter what,” Chat Noir said as he looked back up. “It looks like you’re holding your staff horizontally from here.”

“Your costume really is iridescent,” Ladybug said. “I don’t have night vision, and even I can see you as this shiny speck from the ground.”

“Awesome. Love the commentary. How do I get down or turn, or do anything?”

“Trust you gut, Celeste,” Ladybug said. “Know what you want to do, but don’t overthink it.”

“That advice doesn’t sound that helpful,” Celeste said once he calmed himself down.

“Trust Marinette, Nino,” Chat Noir said.

“Okay, okay.” The background behind Nino seemed the shift, with more buildings coming into view. The two heroes on the ground looked up to see Celeste floating down, avoiding bare tree branches, and catching himself on the base of his staff, which hit the patch of stiff, yellowed grass with a loud _thump._ “Ack, I thought it would be like swimming, which I’m not even that good at.” Celeste turned off his com so that there wouldn’t be an echo, and because they were all standing right in front of each other. Ladybug and Chat Noir shut theirs off too.

“Chat, you need to work on the whole ‘not referring to each other in our civilian names while under the mask’ thing,” Marinette said. “It’s why we have secret identities in the first place.”

“Of course, my Lady,” Chat Noir said with a flourish. The words were no different than what he always used, but it was the first time Chat Noir had acted so flirtatiously with Ladybug with someone they both knew to hear it, he realized after the fact.

“You two are adorable.” Celeste went back to examining his staff more closely in the moonlight.

Ladybug pouted. “Oh gods, you sound like Alya.”

Celeste stiffened. “Crap, Alya. How have you kept this a secret from Alya?”

“I’ve managed so far,” Marinette reassured him. “She thinks I sew a lot more than I actually do. I’m sure you can handle it.”

“She probably sews only slightly less that what Alya thinks,” Chat Noir said.

“We don’t want Alya to discover our identities, for obvious reasons,” Marinette went on. “Celeste, I also think you should avoid Hawkmoth at all costs when there is an akuma attack. Right now, he doesn’t know about a peacock miraculous user. We want to keep it that way for as long as possible.”

Chat Noir considered it. “Not a bad idea. You can focus on the civilians while we confront Hawkmoth.”

Chat Noir and Ladybug patrolled together that night, with Celeste in tow. Ladybug was very firm in Celeste practicing his flight skills, so he was not allowed to leap from building to building like a normal vigilante. Instead, he figured out the ins-and-outs of having a long staff to steer and tug him along. The weapon reminded Adrien of the Power Pole from Dragon Ball, only it couldn’t change lengths and was used more like the Flying Nimbus.

Patrol ended around midnight. It had been a quiet night, and Celeste had only almost-fallen into the frozen Seine once (Ladybug had saved him with a swing of her yo-yo). Celeste hadn’t tested his special superpower yet, but there was no need to. Adrien believed Nino would be just fine.

They dropped him off in front of his apartment building, and Celeste de-transformed.

“I hope your _feline_ good right now,” Chat Noir said, to top off the puns he had been testing out all patrol.

Nino sighed, exasperated. “The cat puns are so terrible. Have they always been this terrible?”

“They have always been this terrible,” Ladybug confirmed.

The next morning, Adrien woke up and found a text from Marinette waiting for him.

 

**[Marinette Dupian-Cheng @ 06h45]**

**Less than a day. Our plan to keep Celeste on the DL lasted less than a day. Check the Ladyblog.**

Alya had made fast work of rumors floating over the internet, despite being in Spain visiting family. There had been no clear pictures or video taken from their adventures last night, but online forums dedicated to the masked heroes had reported sighting of a third person—possibly also masked, no one was entirely sure—accompanying Ladybug and Chat Noir. The entry concluded with the possibility of another miraculous user, and the question of how many more were out there. It was a good question. Perhaps Master Fu knew.

Nino called after Adrien’s fencing lesson.

“Dude, Alya keep messaging me about the newest blog entries and her theories,” Nino said once Adrien picked up. “It’s alright over the phone, but how am I supposed to act not suspicious in real life. I’m going to see her at school in a couple days.”

“Calm down Nino,” Adrien said. “Have you asked Marinette about it? I think she has more expertise on the matter than I do.”

“Marinette isn’t dating Alya!”

“So you guys are actually official this time, again?” Adrien genuinely didn’t know. The on-and-off relationship was too much for him to keep track of.

“No, not really, but kind of? Either way, it’s _Alya,_ okay?”

After more reassurance from Adrien, Nino ended the call.

When Adrien did see Nino and Marinette again, it was in Alya’s presence. Rose and Jukela were also with them, each recollecting what they had done over winter break. Nino, to his credit, was slightly flustered, but not dreadful at acting natural. Marinette seemed to think so as well, as she commented about it in hushed tones. Their whispering may have done Nino a favor, as Marinette and Adrien, with their heads bent together conspiring, was a sight that set Alya on an entirely different type of frenzy. She regarded Marinette with manic glee and was about to pull Marinette aside to ask more specific questions when it was time for class.

Nino was not seen during nightly patrols because sneaking out of the house proved more difficult than he imagined. His absence did build a myth around the third miraculous user. Was it a hoax? Were people just seeing things that night? Was it merely an enthusiast deciding to cosplay? Rumors floated around the interwebs. The populace was nearly convinced that the existence of a third vigilante was a fluke when there was an akuma attack.

It was a Wednesday in mid-January. Adrien realized with a sick twist in his stomach that his father had returned to Paris briefly, for three days, in between time in London, Milan and New York. _Doesn’t have time to eat dinner with me. Does have time to play supervillain,_ Adrien thought to himself as the class watched all the trees in the park across the street get turned into licorice through the classroom windows. The same laser blast struck a few pedestrians as well, who became gingerbread people. Marinette, Adrien, and Nino ran for the door while Alya was pressed to the window with her phone, filming the entire thing. By the time they made it out of the school building, each in their respective costumes, many of the buildings around them had been turned into fixtures made of different colored hard candies.

“CANDY! ALL THE CANDY IS MINE!” The akumatized person shouted. The kid- it sounded like a kid-had bubblegum pink hair and was brandishing a cotton candy wand to shoot the beams of light progressively making the world look like a giant sweets shop. Adrien wasn’t sure what gender the kid was, but they couldn’t have been more than six years old. Did Hawkmoth have no qualms about using someone so young?

Adrien dove into a forward roll to avoid an incoming laser beam, then lengthened his baton and swung it like a bat to get several pedestrians who had not yet fled out of the way. In his periphery he noticed Celeste do the same and Ladybug engage directly with the akuma. Chat Noir used his baton to launch himself up, landing on a lamppost that had been turned into a Bueno Bar. Now he had a better view of the akuma, as the child had remained airborne, and was spinning around while shooting lasers.

Celeste was using his flight ability to keep up and divert all incoming lasers away from dumbstruck tourists and a group of elementary schoolers who had the misfortune of going on a school trip that day. He scrutinized the akuma’s costume. The child was dressed in white, in a uniform meant for a patisserie worker, but without the hat. There was a swath of dark purple by the akuma’s left wrist. Chat Noir leapt down and landed softly next to Ladybug.

“The akuma’s in the kid’s bracelet. Looks like it’s made of lifesavers,” Chat Noir said, just as the two of them bolted in opposite directions to avoid getting hit by a beam. Chat heard Ladybug curse, and he looked back from ushering the poor, now-gingerbread tourist behind a row of trashcans (all made of Turkish delight). Alya was there, even closer to the action, with Ladybug at her side. Ladybug was swinging her yoyo so fast it acted like a shield, and trying to tell Alya something, but the red-haired girl didn’t seem to be listening.

Chat Noir threw his baton so that it spun and flew toward the akuma just as the akuma aimed laser beams at the class of elementary schoolers, and three teachers, who were huddled together and terrified.

“Wind tunnel!” Shouted Celeste. The akuma was hit directly with the force of a tornado, and was blown back. His baton was also caught up in the gust of wind and Chat Noir ran to retrieve it. Before he reached it, he had to dodge more laser beams. His superhuman senses told him that Celeste was protecting the school children and Ladybug was protecting Alya. If they had the defense covered, he could focus on the attack.

“Cataclysm,” Chat Noir said, making a lunge for the akuma’s cotton candy wand. Cataclysm made contact just as another laser beam was being shot out, and the cotton candy stick turned to ash and dissolved away. The akuma briefly had purple light around its eyes, no doubt Hawkmoth instructing the child to take Chat’s miraculous.

“Lucky Charm!” Ladybug shouted from behind him. Chat Noir turned around to see Ladybug holding another stick of cotton candy.

“I’ve got another wand if you want it,” Ladybug offered. “It’s especially, um, polka dot flavored.”

The akuma regarded Ladybug suspiciously, but approached nonetheless, curious. Ladybug walked up to the child slowly. She offered the cotton candy, but, as the child was briefly absorbed in examining the cotton candy, snapped the candy bracelet off the child’s wrist. The bracelet snapped apart on impact, and a black butterfly fluttered out.

Ladybug de-evilized the akuma, and restored the world to normal. The child, whose pageboy haircut had changed from vivid pink to a golden color sat on the sidewalk in a daze. The elementary schoolers were picking themselves up and dusting themselves off when one of the teachers, a woman in a puffy yellow jacket ran over and hoisted the child up in her arms.

“Thank God you’re safe,” she said.

“What happened, Mrs. Petit?” The child asked.

“Don’t you worry about it,” Mrs. Petit responded, setting the child down. They walked back to the rest of the class holding hands. The de-akumatized person was fretted over by the rest of the teachers and other students.

Chat Noir headed over to where Ladybug and Celeste were standing with Alya, who was pestering them with questions.

“So you _are_ real.” Alya snapped a phot of Celeste. “What’s your name? Is that wind attack your specialty? Were you _flying_ earlier?”

“My name is Celeste,” Celeste said.

“Alya, you shouldn’t run toward danger every time,” Ladybug admonished with her arms crossed. “You could get hurt one day, or worse.”

“No, I have an obligation—“

The rest of Alya’s words were lost as the orb on Celeste’s staff flickered. Ladybug gasped as she grabbed Celeste’s arm, and pushed him bodily away, making up some hasty excuse to Alya. Chat Noir watched as they took off, feeling his ring beep as well. He gave Alya a deep, theatrical bow, which seemed to appease her, before following.

Marinette and Nino were at the rooftop of their school building, hiding in plain sight.

“You just used your special attack,” Marinette explained. “You’re going to have to feed Duusu something before you transform again. Duusu what do you eat?”

“Flowers,” the blue kwami said.

“Flowers?” Nino asked, incredulous.

“Better smelling than cheese.” Adrien de-transformed.

“Oh, is that why you always reeked of Camembert, Adrien?” Nino laughed.

“Wednesday’s a half day anyway,” Marinette said, as she handed Tikki one of the cookies she kept on her person. “School should be out by now. Let’s get our stuff and then find flowers for Duusu. Plus, it’s freezing, and none of us were smart enough to run outside wearing our coats.”

They made it back to the classroom teeth chattering and shivering. Adrien respected that their geography teacher quickly adjusted the homework assignment to include some more reading, accommodating their interrupted class session. Alya had to pick up two of her siblings immediately, but was wondering if they were doing anything later that day. They made plans to meet right before dinner.

Adrien was expected home shortly, but took the time to walk around with Marinette and Nino for a bit. Once they found a flower shop, Nino bought a small bouquet of carnations. They huddled in the corner of the street and, once the coast was clear, Nino called Duusu out.

“Carnations are alright,” Duusu said after demolishing the bouquet. “I do prefer daisies and roses. Oh, but orchids and hyacinths are my favorite.”

“He just named all the expensive flowers,” Adrien said.

“Really?” Nino looked at Duusu thoughtfully. “He does allow me to fly though…”

“You did great in your first battle, by the way,” Marinette said. “A really good job.”

“You protected that class and everything,” Adrien agreed.

“Didn’t I blow your baton away?” Nino pointed out, skeptically.

“Don’t worry about it,” Adrien replied. “It was worth seeing you create a tornado.”

Nino watched Duusu fly into the inside of his jacket. “It was pretty awesome, wasn’t it?” He deposited the flower stems and the paper they were wrapped with in a nearby trashcan.

Adrien realized he would be late to return home if he walked, and transformed again. He sped across the city as Chat Noir, and was about to turn the corner and enter his house when her heard the distinctive sound of a camera. He turned to find Alya, talking to Ladybug. Marinette must have had the same idea as him. _Right,_ Adrien thought. _Two of her siblings attend_ collège _now._ The school that was a stone’s throw away from both Adrien and Marinette’s houses.

Alya gasped and squealed excitedly as she realized Chat Noir was there as well. “A joint interview!” Alya declared. She fiddled with her phone and Chat Noir was pretty sure he was being live-streamed on the blog right now. On the same street as the Dupain-Cheng bakery. Two minutes from his own house. “What do you think about your new teammate? How did you two meet him?”

“He’s cool,” Ladybug answered, declining the second question.

“He’s great,” Chat Noir added.

“I actually have some very important questions for the two of you,” Alya said, more seriously. “It’s widely known that you two are based in Paris, understandably, because that is where all the akuma attacks happen. However, I’ve done triangulations of your appearances over and over again, and have to add that you are based not in the greater Paris area, but around the city center. What’s more, given the pattern of akuma attacks and your rate of response to them, I have to ask: do you attend Lycée Françoise Dupont?”

Ladybug showed a perplexed expression for the cameras. “Didn’t we go over it before, Alya? I’m five thousand years old,” she said smoothly.

“I’m not nearly that old,” Chat Noir said. “As for where we show up, we just follow the akuma attacks.

“Thing is,” Alya pressed. “You guys are masked heroes, which means you have a secret identity. Superman doesn’t even wear a mask, and he has a secret identity.”

“One thing I can tell you is that I don’t wear glasses in real life,” Chat Noir said. “It would be a poor disguise anyway.”

“You seem to know enough about comic books to understand that secret identities are meant to protect the heroes and those around them,” Ladybug said with an edge to her voice. “Although, you don’t seem to be concerned about safety in general.”

Alya ignored Ladybug’s comments. “Interesting little tidbits. Also, neither of you denied attending the school.” Alya stopped recording and ran off, responding to the impatient call of her two younger siblings.

“Adrien,” Ladybug hissed once Alya was out of earshot. “She’s going to get herself killed over us, she really is. She’s reckless and impulsive and one day she might to something when I won’t be there to protect her.”

Chat Noir scratched one of his cat ears. “She’s survived so far.”

“Today during the fight, I kept trying to get her to leave, to go somewhere safe,” Ladybug went on. “She said she had an obligation to the populace to find out the truth. It’s the same obligation that drives her to figure out our real identities. She’s convinced she will. It’s like a fun challenge to her. Now she’s going to go convince the internet that we attend a certain school, and I can’t stop her without giving too much away.”

“Kudos for getting a lot of her speculations right,” Chat Noir joked before he spoke in a more somber tone. “You want to tell her, don’t you?”

“She’s been writing the blog for less than two years, and has already figured out so much.” Ladybug sighed as she made sure there wasn’t anyone in sight, and de-transformed. “Think of how much damage she could do in the future. The thin veil of magic protecting our identities may lose to Alya’s persistence.”

Adrien, who had de-transformed around the same time as Marinette, had to admit she had a point. “I’ll talk to Nino about it,” Adrien said.

Marinette had probably been thinking about telling Alya versus keeping it a secret for a long time. Certainly longer than she had thought about revealing her identity to him. When Adrien had first become Chat Noir, the logistics of keeping it a secret had never even crossed his mind because there was no one he was close enough to for it to matter. As long as he kept up with his schedule, Nathalie and the Gorilla would think nothing was amiss. It must have been a struggle for Marinette, who may have seen the miraculous as an inconvenience as well as a gift. She seemed to be close enough to both her parents that keeping a huge secret from them would have been a novelty. If Marinette were to finally tell Alya, she would probably feel relieved. Adrien trusted her judgement, and was happy to go along with it.

Marinette sent a group message out, instructing everyone to meet at her house around 6PM. Nino admitted to Adrien that he was slightly relieved they were telling Alya. By the time they were all assembled in Marinette’s room, Alya had posted two entries on her blog. One about today’s akuma attack. The other, about her run-in with Ladybug and Chat Noir. Both pages had gotten more than a thousand hits. Alya was talking excitedly about everything that had occurred that day when Nino arrived. Marinette locked her attic door and waited for Alya to finish her sentence.

“What you did today was incredibly reckless, Alya,” Marinette said.

“Yeah, but the scoop I got was amazing!”

Marinette sighed. “That’s what I want to talk about,” she began. “You can’t breathe a word of what I’m about to show you to anyone. You definitely can’t post it on the internet. Promise?”

Alya raised an eyebrow. “Uh, okay?”

Marinette opened the coin purse she always had at her side. “Tikki, you can come out,” she said, as the kwami apprehensively obliged. “Alya, this is Tikki. She’s the source of my power. Tikki, _transforme-moi._ ” Alya, for once, was silent, with her jaw hanging open as Marinette transformed. “I diverted a laser beam and got someone else turned into a gingerbread cookie because I didn’t want you to get hurt, but all you did was continue filming.” Ladybug’s voice did not get any louder, but it shook. “You didn’t even notice. You don’t care how dangerous it is. I’ve talked to you about this as Marinette. I was nagging you about it today as Ladybug. Maybe now, as both, you’ll listen. I get that you want info for your blog, Alya, but don’t do anything stupid for it. It isn’t worth your life.”

The room was dead silent for a few moments before Alya spoke in a rush. “You. You are Ladybug? Have you been Ladybug this entire time? Why didn’t you tell me?” She turned from Ladybug to look at Adrien and Nino respectively. “And you, you both knew? Nino, you knew?”

Nino shifted his balance from one leg to another, his hands deep in his pockets and shoulders hunched. “I only found out a couple days ago, in my defense.” Nino said.

Alya, trying to hide her confused and slightly hurt expression, turned back to Ladybug. “Do you know who Chat Noir and that new one, Celeste is?” She asked in an excited voice.

“Why?” Ladybug’s shoulders were trembling now, and she clinched her hands into fists. “Are you going to report it all on your blog so that Hawkmoth can plague not just my time as Ladybug or my nightmares, but my time as Marinette as well? Put my parents in danger? Put you in even more danger?”

Alya deflated as Ladybug’s words spilled out. “No. No, of course not. I won’t tell anyone,” she said in a gentler voice. “I wouldn’t betray you like that.” A pause. “Seriously, you know who they are though?”

Ladybug’s face crumpled slightly as she began to realize the extent of Alya’s ambitions.

“Chat Noir is in the room too” Adrien snarled. He had one too many interviews with pushy reporters from tween magazines who hadn’t learned the very important rule of keeping things professional. Of fans who had overstepped their boundaries, including one last week who had to be evicted by the security team at a photoshoot. He would shrug it off if it were just him, but Marinette was involved too. Marinettte had become a superhero to help others, because it was a job that needed doing. Not to get hounded by the press. “I have to wonder, Alya. What if Ladybug weren’t Marinette? What if it were just some random other schoolgirl you never talked to before. Maybe someone you hadn’t met in real life? What would you have done if you were livestreaming and caught her de-transforming? Would you care that, by posting that video, you would be essentially ruining her life?”

Ladybug put a hand on his shoulder. “Adrien—”

“No, I have to ask, because sometimes, fame is a necessary part of the job. But, guess what? It absolutely sucks. Take it from someone who has to deal with cameras in both lives. At first, it was easier being Chat Noir, but now, I don’t know anymore. It’s not just you, but other people are triangulating my locations and logging my movements and acting offended when I don’t stop to take selfies with them, never mind that I am currently working. There are consequences the people behind the stories and the cameras don’t give a damn about because they don’t have to live with them like I do.” Adrien calmed his voice down and looked Alya straight in the eyes. “If your heroes were strangers to you, and you figured out our identities, would you have exposed us all without a second thought?”

“I… I don’t know.” Alya broke his gaze, her eyes darting across the room. “If Marinette is Ladybug, and Adrien is Chat Noir, does it mean…”

Nino nodded silently.  He let Duusu float out from under his hoodie, and Alya gulped.

Alya walked over to and sat down in Marinette’s swivel chair. She lifted her glasses to rest on top of her head and pressed her hands to her face for a few moments before placing her glasses back. “I have so many other questions,” Alya began slowly. “About your transformations, and the magic, and how you all got superpowers.” She grabbed both of Ladybug’s hands and pressed them together. “All that can wait. Marinette, Ladybug, whoever you are, I never meant to worry you so much.”

“I just need to know you’re safe,” Ladybug said. “I’m not sure I’ll be able to protect you during every akuma attack if you ignore all my warnings.”

“I’m sorry. I guess I can be kind of pushy sometimes.” Alya looked at Ladybug, Nino, and then Adrien as she spoke. “Adrien, I never meant to make you uncomfortable. I didn’t mean anyone harm, really.”

“I know you mean well,” Adrien replied diplomatically.

“There are other blogs about Paris’ heroes, but yours is the best and, to be frank, the only one we really care about,” Ladybug said.

Alya leaped up and gave Ladybug a huge hug and kiss on the cheek. “It’s still going to be the best,” she declares. “I’ll just be more careful about what I write.” Alya stiffened as if she was recalling a bad memory. “I just realized, with the post I just wrote linking the two of you to the school, things might be nuts tomorrow.”

Marinette shook her head. “School had always been nuts. It’s nothing we can’t deal with. I—I’m just happy I told you before things really got out of hand.”

On Thursday morning the school was abuzz with the possibility that two of its students were the famed masked heroes of Paris. Adrien checked his phone in between classes, and felt a chill up his spine when he skimmed the forums. Someone had acquired a student directory, and was cross referencing all 700 students, and ranking the likelihood that each of them as a hero. Due to his modeling, Adrien’s name was one of the first to crop up as a possibility for Chat Noir. One netizen pointed out how short and clean-cut Adrien’s hair always was. Whereas Chat Noir’s hair was “longer and messier.” Most of the forum agreed with the post’s logic, and the enthusiasts went on to examine other blond-haired boys. Under their logic, every black-haired girl could be Ladybug, and every dark-skinned boy could be Celeste.

After Adrien showed the forums to Marinette, Nino, and Alya, Marinette studiously yanked the hair ties out of her hair. One went on her wrist. The other was used to secure her dark locks into a single high bun. “I’ve been thinking of changing it always,” Marinette said when she noticed Alya’s guilty look.

“It looks really nice,” Adrien said, because it was true. The bun made Marinette look older and more sophisticated.

Marinette smiled. “Thanks.”

They were about to head out for lunch when Alix stopped them. “Nope,” she says with a pop of her bubblegum. “Don’t go out there. Especially you, Adrien. The paparazzi are camped out and hungry. It’s a disaster. I heard a _terminale_ student punched a camera so hard when he was trying to go home for lunch he broke his hand. They wouldn’t stop hounding him because he had a blond ponytail. I can get lunch for you if you don’t want to eat from the cafeteria. No one’s going to bother me.”

“No, the cafeteria is fine,” Adrien said. “Thanks, Alix.”

“I heard someone else used a Taser on one of the paps because she was just overwhelmed,” Jukela said, joining their group. It looked like it was going to be another one of those lunches that was almost a _troisième_ reunion. “I wonder where she got a Taser.”

“You want your own Taser?” Marinette asked.

“Jukela wants to get her hands on far more dangerous objects than that,” Rose said. “To be fair, after those two incidents, I think the school called the authorities, and the paparazzi should be removed from the premises soon.”

The interwebs were busy that day. A lot of what Adrien found after school was pure conjecture. However, someone had unearthed the video of Chloé dressed as Ladybug and the old “Chloé is Ladybug” theory resurfaced. Nino and Marinette got special pleasure in teasing Alya about it. Chloé was a class over this year, and Adrien was slightly curious about how she was handling the media frenzy, but not enough to ask. They hadn’t ever been that close, even when she was the only kid his age he knew, and had drifted even further apart since the summer and start of the school year. Their relationship had devolved into passing glances and short conversations with each other when they saw each other at society events.

Unlike during lunch, when the school day ended, Adrien had no choice but to venture to the outside. He put on his jacket and pulled his beanie low over his head while making sure his scarf covered most of his face. Marinette gave him a strange look before wrapping her own white scarf around her neck. He hadn’t noticed how similar their scarves were before.

The lights and bulbs were blinding, and Adrien focused on staring straight ahead until he reaches his limo. “It fits six other people,” he offered. With hurried thanks Marinette, Nino, and Alya piled in after him. Alix, Nathaniel, and Kim ran in last minute as well.

The Gorilla, graciously dropped everyone off one-by-one without comment. When it was only Alya, Marinette, and him in the car, Nino having just been dropped off, Alya spoke.

“I didn’t expect it to be such a disaster,” Alya said.

“It’s okay,” Marinette said. “Don’t worry about it.”

“I will worry about it,” Alya responded. “In fact, I have an idea.”

That night, when Adrien checked the Ladyblog out of habit, he found a new post.

 

**_A Likeness to Heroes_ **

_Hiya peeps. Alya here, as usual. Yesterday was some adventure, but today was a real doozy too, because of one factor: paparazzi._

_Guess what peeps? Lycée Françoise Dupont? I go there. As a student I was able to witness firsthand the uproar over the possibility that Ladybug and/or Chat Noir were fellow students. The cameras seemed to be conducting a witch hunt. A least one student got sent to the hospital. It was madness._

_Now, I’m just as curious (okay, perhaps slightly more curious) about the true identities of our masked heroes as you. However, something rubbed me the wrong way about how the people reacted to the information. Every girl with black hair and every boy with blond was a target._

_My response: where is your imagination, people?_

_When people get akumatized, their entire being can change. I’ve seen one friend turn into an actual goo monster and another become a plant. It’s magic. There is no logic to it, and whatever limitations there are, I sure don’t know them. If we assume LB and CN’s powers are magic, what’s stopping them from changing their appearance to up the mystery? CN could actually be a ginger. LB could have a crew cut in real life, or hair past her waist. Who knows how much the magic may distort their appearances?_

_On that note they may not even be the genders we assume they are. Or the height. Or the ethnicity. I’ve gotten complete coloration overhauls and costume changes on video. You think magic would keep their appearances the same? Heck, you don’t even need magic to change the way you look drastically. I dye my hair red, for example. Why target all the black-haired girls when LB could be spray painting it? Why stop every blond kid when they’re trying to leave the school when CN could be wearing a wig?_

_As sweet as it would be to learn if LB or CN really attend my school, I think we’re looking at it the wrong way. So many students were immediately ruled out in the search. I saw every single student should be a viable candidate. At the very least, do not reduce things to hair color and build. I may even be Ladybug for all you guys know ;)_

_Food for thought:_

_Appearance is such a fluid, easily adjustable thing. Then, add magic._

 

“It’s an interesting article,” Adrien told Alya the next morning. The paparazzi outside had calmed down somewhat. He was also pretty sure Chat Noir and Ladybug wigs did exist, along with imitations of their costumes.         

“This is a good setup,” Marinette added. “We can use you to fan the flames.” Marinette hugged her best friend, who patted the bun on her head.

Alya smiled, pleased with herself. “I am not worried about my journalistic integrity because I’m putting safety first. As far as I’m concerned, you’re all anonymous sources.”

The hysteria surrounding their school died out in a month, after no conclusive evidence. They were yesterday’s news and it seemed, for Alya, it was back to square one. Adrien knew it was the opposite. For Alya, it was a whole new board game because the rules had changed. She had the number-one inside scoop to everything, and while she was still prone to running headlong towards akuma attacks, she was also better at staying an arm’s length away from the danger. Ladyblog posts were still peppered with a healthy dose of speculation about their identities, but the miraculous users all understood their double lives were safe for now.

 

\--

 

**Present Time**

Marinette finished her entry for the fashion design contest three days before the deadline, which was the amount of time she liked to have as leeway, for quality inspection and adding finishing touches. In the end, Marinette had designed a two-piece eveningwear which included culottes Adrien had modeled for fun. The pant legs were so wide they resembled a flowing, pleated skirt. Marinette cut floral patterns out at the bottom, stitching them closed with an overlock of red thread. The scraps from the cutouts had been saved to form the large cloth rose that adorned the back of the top garment.

After much deliberation, Marinette decided to create a top inspired by a fitted blazer. She had started with a fitted bodice with a sweetheart neckline in the front that opened down the middle like a jacket would. Two asymmetrical lapels were attached to the bodice, and formed a halter top—a strip of cloth edging over the back. The back was almost completely open. Marinette had attached another strip of cloth to the left side of the bodice, around where the bra line would typically be. The strip of cloth made a horizontal V as it stretched across the back, turned at the right, and reached the left side again, this time at the waist area. At the left side by the waist the top could be tied with a butterfly knot that was hidden by the large rose. The cloth attached to the bottom half of the “V” line in a way that clinched the waist and flared out from behind, matching the volume of the culottes.

Marinette described the construction of the garment to Sabrina when they met for lunch on Thursday, while showing her pictures of the finished product. Everyone else was too busy for lunch. Adrien was staying on the other side of the city because he had a booking there, and Nino was flying to Lisbon for a gig. Alya was locked in her office and Chloé was dealing with her father’s hotel.

“It looks amazing,” Sabrina said. “I hope you win.”

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” Marinette said after taking a sip of her smoothie. “I don’t want to jinx anything. The prize money would be good to have, only because tuition is so expensive. You’re so lucky ENS has low fees.”

“I’m just lucky to have gotten in,” Sabrina said. She was doing a course in biology at the same school Adrien was studying physics with intent on going into engineering, and Alya was studying history. Quite a lot of their _collège_ were going to ENS Paris. Last she heard, Rose was going to study sociology there, and Kim was going for computer science. Others were like Marinette and Nino, and had distanced themselves from the very academic settings they had been groomed for in public school. Jukela was doing makeup for film and television, and Nathaniel was going to _Gobelins._ “Plus, I still have to pay my own rent. Hence, this job.”

They were sitting in the café were Sabrina was working fulltime over the summer. She was on her lunch break, and her manager did not seem to object to her inviting friends over to eat. It was good for business. (Specifically, someone who spent as lavishly as Chloé was good for business.)

Sabrina peered more closely at the pictures on Marinette’s phone. “It looks so cool,” she continued. “Did you already drop the entry off?”

“I will after work today,” Marinette said. “I want to keep it for a bit longer, but Alya is convinced I will drive myself mad if I hold on to it for too long, so she’s going with me to turn it in tonight.”

“I may commission a gown from you one day,” Sabrina said wistfully. “Then, when you’re famous I can brag about having a Dupain-Cheng one-of-a-kind. Chlo already has plans to ask. Oh, but you didn’t hear it from me.”

“Why is she at the hotel today anyway?” Marinette asked as she put her phone back in her purse. “I thought her dad didn’t want her to work.”

“He has some conference in Germany to attend, and Chlo took the opportunity. With his political career heating up I say he should be pleased with his daughter’s interest, not waiting it out like it’s a ‘phase.’ He treats her like a doll.”

 _Better,_ Marinette thought, _than being treated like a puppet._ Which is how Adrien was treated by his father until very recently.

“Can you go over it with me?” Sabrina asked. “About Volpina. Chloé told me the details, but you know she has a flair for the dramatic.”

Marinette checked the time. Twenty minutes before she had to get back to the atelier. “What did she tell you?”

Sabrina gave a terse summary of what she knew, which boiled down to akuma attacks occurring without Hawkmoth orchestrating them sometime in the near future. “Is it as much as a shot in the dark as Chlo made it seem?”

Marinette nodded reluctantly. “I’m trying not to think about it too much. Best thing to do is probably to take it day by day, like how we approached the incumbent akuma attacks before.”

“The waiting we are all too familiar with.” Sabrina finished the panini she had been eating for lunch. “At times I wish I didn’t know it was coming. Then I would be like every other civilian, but they’re wondering when Hawkmoth will strike next anyway.” Sabrina, who had known about everyone’s other identities for less than a year, had adjusted to the idea remarkably fast. Then again, they all had to. “Even if it’s an extra worry, I’m glad I do know because I’m too invested in all of you. I’m scared, but I think I’ve been scared for years.”

“I’ve been scared since Hawkmoth first appeared,” Marinette agreed. “Now that he’s gone, I’m more terrified than ever. We defeated him, but it’s like nothing’s changed in Paris.” Marinette took the lone cookie on a dessert plate, which she had bought with her lunch, and slipped it casually into her bag. Tikki squeaked a “thanks” as Marinette felt the cookie tugged out of her fingers. “I can’t let the fear control me,” Marinette continued. “I’m waiting for it, but not. It’s like graduation, or starting university. It will come. I will do my best when it does. We all will.” Marinette grinned wryly. “What is life without the sense of impending doom, anyway?”

After work Alya met Marinette at the apartment. She packaged the garments in a storage bag with clear instructions, reference photographs for how it looked on the dress form, and a 500-word essay explaining the concept behind the design. The statement was also to be emailed with her entry number, which she would receive when she dropped the design off. When they arrived at the Koko Vita headquarters (which were open late starting that day for the sake of accepting contest entries), Marinette found out she was the third person to submit. For a few moments she entertained the thought to turning around with her garment, returning to her room, and checking the seams for probably the twentieth time and maybe changing the design a little. Alya noticed her hesitation and talked sense into her. Marinette received an entry confirmation form which told her prize recipients would be announced sometime in early September.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading!  
> I was excited to post this chapter (on my birthday!) because Sabrina shows up for the first time with dialogue, so now we have a glimpse of all 6 of the "main" characters. I drew some pictures of the 6 and what the miraculous means to them. It can be viewed here:  
> h t t p : / / keeperofarestlessheart. t u m b l r . c o m / post / 152807911817 / so-i-think-each-of-the-miraculous-ladybug  
> I am working on the chapters to come in a hard-to-explain, out-of-order way. What I have found is that there are a lot of random scenes and interactions that don't really fit into the main story. If anyone is interested in reading miscellaneous side-shots, I can post them too.
> 
> All kudos and comments are appreciated ^__^


	7. Paris, and Other Catacombs

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the love (and kudos) everyone has shown this story!  
> I'm shooting for weekly updates... eventually. Such is the goal. For now, enjoy chapter seven.

It happened around lunchtime on Wednesday. Marinette was dutifully working on her assignment for the upcoming spring/summer collection that would debut in Paris fashion week when Tikki flew out of her bag. Over the years, Tikki had gotten remarkably good at remembering she was a magical creature and had to be careful trying to get Marinette’s attention. So when Tikki flew out of her bag and made a beeline for Marinette, flying so fast she crashed straight into Marinette’s chest before floating backward, slightly dizzy, there was cause for alarm. Marinette hovered over the dress form so that Tikki was sandwiched between and mostly blocked from view.

Marinette’s voice came out as a sharp whisper. “Tikki?”

“I felt a breech. It’s Volpina. It’s here, in Paris, now.”

Marinette took a deep breath, trying to stay calm. “I still have forty-five minutes before I can leave for lunch. This place isn’t school; I can’t just sneak off.”

“You’ll have to think of something.” Tikki flew back into Marinette’s bag.

Marinette reached into her bag and saw she had a news alert regarding the attack. _Okay,_ she thought. _Time to panic._

Marinette was known at work to be talkative about things pertaining to work, but quiet about most other matters. So when she raised her voice, it came as enough of a shock that she was taken seriously. “Turn on the news,” she cried, her phone in hand and work abandoned. Lukas, who was the general manager of the floor, obliged.

News reports showed a small fox that seemed to be composed of dark shadows, scaring tourists around the Eifel Tower. The shadows swirled constantly in a way that made the creature seem not entirely corporeal. The headline at the base of the screen speculated that it was another akuma attack. The camera panned over to show Chat Noir arriving on the scene. Marinette recalled that Adrien had a bit of a break from work this week.

Marinette went up to Lukas after hastily grabbing her bag. “I have to leave,” she said. She didn’t have to fake her fear, and the way her voice shook. She only had to think about Chat there, without backup, and all the unknowns that came with dealing with a new akuma monster, and the fact that all the luck in the world would not bring back the dead. “My parents’ bakery is right there. I have to make sure they are safe. Please, I’ll make up the work.”

All eyes were on either Marinette or the TV screen now. Lukas regarded Marinette’s request hesitantly.

“Let her leave, Lukas.” Marinette turned towards to the voice that spoke. It was Amalia. “The dear child can’t get any work done in that state, and lord knows she pulls enough overtime as it is.”

Marinette cast Amalia a grateful look, and turned back to Lukas with pleading eyes.

“Fine, go,” Lukas said. “We may have to evacuate from here.”

“Thank you.” Marinette bolted to the elevator as Lukas asked if anyone else had family in the immediate area. Once she had run out the front door of the building and ducked out of sight, Marinette transformed. She made it to the tower in record time, slightly out of breath but so wired with adrenaline she hardly noticed.

Honeybee and Chat Noir were already there when she arrived. Civilians had given the area a wide berth, and the two other heroes were circling the fox, who had yet to make a move. The creature’s black fur shone and made its orange eyes seem especially menacing. Its eyes resembled flames that flickered each time the creature blinked. Without  irises or pupils or whites, it’s orbs were like colored glass. Chat and Honeybee acknowledged her with a brief nod, before turning their attention back to the akuma.

When it raised its head to glare at an incoming flash of blue—Celeste, flying in—it opened its mouth as if to yowl, but no sound came out. Ladybug also noticed something orange glinting in the sunlight at the base of the fox’s throat, almost like a collar. _Volpina’s necklace._

“The orange fragment, you must separate it from the akuma without destroying it.” Master Fu’s voice came out with a slight crackle from Ladybug’s yo-yo. Ladybug scanned the area and saw Master Fu directing some people a block over. He was in normal civilian clothes, standing stately and talking through his com without looking at the bracelet on his left wrist. He had yet to reveal to the other miraculous users how he managed to use his com without transforming.

“I think our fox just got larger,” Honeybee said in a tense voice. Ladybug’s attention snapped back to the akuma, who was regarding the four heroes that had boxed it in curiously, but made no move to attack. Honeybee was right. The fox was now as tall as her ribs, and had shot up about twenty centimeters since Ladybug had arrived two minutes ago. It seemed to still be growing. The four heroes continued to circle the akuma.

In dealing with akumatized people, Ladybug had become conditioned to react, and not to attack first. She was sticking to that procedure now. If she whacked the creature with her yo-yo there was a chance it would explode or teleport to a different spot or start viciously pouncing at moving objects. Or maybe it would remain perfectly docile and let Ladybug remove the fragment lodged in its throat and Ladybug could get back to work before lunch break was over, one could dream.

Out of the corner of her eye, Ladybug saw someone run over wearing a black pencil skirt and cream-colored blouse with a distinctive red ombre recording them on her phone. She wasn’t the only one who noticed Alya’s approach. The akuma seemed to hone in on Alya as the closest non-miraculous user and sprang towards her.

“Wind tunnel!” Celeste cried at the same time Honeybee shouted “Honeycomb!”

The streak of black was pulled back like a slinky collapsing in on itself. On one side, it was trapped by the glowing, golden confines of Honeycomb. On the other, by the min-tornado Celeste had created. It happened so quickly Ladybug had a feeling the akuma’s neck would have snapped if it hadn’t been a manifestation of a god.

Alya stood still with her camera still pointed, directly in front of the akuma snapping its jaws silently at her, it’s eyes so luminous Ladybug had to squint a little to stare directly at it.

“I’m okay,” Alya shouted reassuringly, taking a few steps back but still recording.

There were cracks in Honeycomb now, indicating the akuma was still getting larger. It would tower over Alya and break out of Honeycomb soon if they didn’t hurry up, “Lucky Charm!” Ladybug shouted. A large shaker full of ground pepper fell into her hands. “What am I supposed to do with this?”

The lightness of its eyes was making it increasingly difficult to stare at the area surrounding its head and upper torso. Ladybug darted toward the akuma, which was slowly working its way through one of its constraints. The fox was nearly eye-level with her now. She emptied the pepper shaker around its face blindly. She sneezed herself before the akuma did, shutting her eyes for a few seconds in the process.

Chat Noir ran past her and inched closer to the akuma as it shut its eyes to sneeze. “Cataclysm,” he said. He rammed the orb of dark energy into the akuma’s throat, right next to the shard. As his palm made contact and Cataclysm faded away, leaving a gaping, hole, Chat plucked out the shard, still partially lodged in the akuma’s throat, and handed it to Ladybug.

Ladybug dropped the shard into her yo-yo. “De-evilized,” she said. “Miraculous Ladybug.”

Alya had front row seats to Ladybug swinging her yo-yo straight up in the air, and the little damage the fox had done to the Eifel tower being repaired. She ran up to Celeste and Honeybee to thank them specifically for saving her, then addressed the group. “Was this creature a new kind of akuma?”

“It may be,” Ladybug said. “We’re not sure, but we’ll do our best to protect the city no matter what.”

Alya nodded, and made some speculations into the camera herself before turning it off and putting her phone away. As the area was deemed safe, and civilians started filing it, their coms all went off.

“Meet me in my apartment at 6PM tonight,” Master Fu said quickly before the distinctive click that came with him turning off his com.

“Tell me the details immediately after,” Alya, who was still in earshot, said.

Once the group dispersed, Marinette did run to her parent’s bakery, where they were surprised but pleased to see her.

“I heard about the attack,” Marinette explained. “I needed to make sure you were okay. I…”

Sabine came out from behind the register and gave Marinette a hug. “Oh, sweetheart you’re shaking. You don’t have to be so scared.” Tom came out from behind the kitchen and turned it into a group hug.

“We’re fine, dear,” Tom reassured her.

Yes, they were. And Marinette would use all her power to ensure they would always be fine. But the variables Master Fu had warned them about weeks ago were coming to the surface. The battle with the akuma had been short. Anti-climatically short. And it had been terrifying. For most of it she hadn’t done anything because she had no idea what to do. Her usual bag of tricks had been emptied out into the Seine the moment Volpina’s fragments had seemed to sink into her hands. They were now dealing with a creature who could change in size, and that she hadn’t been able to look in the eye. Her parents were fine, though. So she forced a smile on her face and tried to look like she was no longer worried.

Her parents sent her back to work with pastries after her mother cooked her lunch. She texted Amalia and Lukas before getting on the metro, informing both of them that her parents were fine, and she would make it back within half an hour.

“You should check in with your parents more often, Marinette,” Lukas said in a joking manner. “Bring us back more treats. I am very glad they are alright,” Lukas added. “My own family was even more hesitant about me moving here because of the akuma attacks.”

Lukas’ words prompted anecdotes from everyone on the fifth floor. Everyone had been involved in, or knew someone who had been involved in an akuma attack in some way. Families from far away were scared for individuals living in the city. A number claimed they had seen one or two of the masked heroes in passing. Marinette’s fingers tightened around the pins she was holding, and inched closer to the dress form. She worked very efficiently for the rest of that afternoon.

Marinette found Adrien, Nino, and Chloé waiting outside when she arrived at Master Fu’s place that evening. Adrien and Nino were leaning against the wall, talking casually, while Chloé was pacing back and forth and on her phone.

“We decided we wanted to walk in together,” Adrien explained when Marinette raised an eyebrow.

Master Fu ushered them toward the back room, where tea was customarily waiting for them. The Guardian began speaking once everyone was seated. “You four handled today’s attack well,”

Master Fu began. “Marinette, may I see the shard? You should be able to retrieve it from inside your yo-yo.”

Tikki flew inside the earrings and Marinette transformed. Ladybug opened her yo-yo. In the middle of the glow of light lay a small piece of Volpina’s necklace. Master Fu picked it up and put it in a small compartment in his jade bracelet. He turned to address the teenagers.

“The good news is, now that the first fragment has revealed itself, we can somewhat control when all the others will appear.” Master Fu ignored everyone’s confused faces and continued speaking. “Hawkmoth capitalized on people’s negative emotions, no? Grief, anger, frustration, it was the source of the akuma. What’s left of Vollpina’s miraculous is doing the same thing. It has been sitting in Paris, waiting, and feeding off people’s bad vibes until they built up to the point that it could form its own monster. This monster happened to take the form of a fox, which is fitting for Trixx.

“I suspect Paris was where the monster manifested itself in Paris first because of the residual unrest Hawkmoth caused in these last few of years. Where the rest of the shards are, I do not know, but I have a way we can find out. I think they will be in other cities, simply because there will be more people and more energy, both good and bad, to feed off of.”

“You mean, there will be more attacks like this one? But they won’t be in Paris?” Marinette asked. She had transformed back in the midst of Master Fu’s speech.

“I’m afraid so.”

“That’s awful!” Nino slammed his empty tea cup on to the table a little too forcefully. “You know that the only reason we respond so quickly to akuma attacks is because we all try to stay as close to the Paris area as possible, right? How are we supposed to stop the attacks if we have to take a train or go through customs? We would never get to certain places in time. Even making it to Lyon would be difficult, not to mention expensive.”

“It may be tougher when school starts as well,” Adrien said.

“You may not have to worry so much about the logistics,” Master Fu said. “It would be easier to show you than to explain. Doing so will require you four, the chosen guardians, to leave the city for a tine. If it comes down to it, I believe you have people you can trust with your mirauclouses  in order to continue patrols. When the time comes, I don’t know how long you’ll be gone.” Master Fu’s words only prompted more questions.

“Where would we be going?” Nino asked.

Chloé tapped her fingers along the table. “Can we get a ballpark estimate of how long we would be gone?”

“You’re speaking as if we can choose what time we leave for whatever this mysterious journey is,” Adrien pointed out.

“Other people can use our miraculouses?” Marinette asked.

Marinette could see Master Fu regretted presenting the information the way he did. It was like trying to pour a gallon of juice through a strainer, only the juice was information on a need-to-know basis, and the recipients questioned every drop they received. Their free-thinking was good in battle, but made info dumps inefficient. He addressed the question he could answer most easily.

“If the kwami deems them worthy, then another person can use your miraculous,” Master Fu said. “You have to give it to them of your own free will, and they cannot sustain the transformation for as long, but it is indeed possible.” Master Fu refilled his tea cup and took a long drink. “The ‘mysterious journey’ as Adrien has put it, will be a matter of hours or days. It’s going to depend a lot on you guys. Dress as if you will be hiking. The sooner we leave, the better. Would this Friday or Saturday work?”

“I’m fine all weekend,” Chloé offered after a pause.

“After 3AM Friday I should be okay,” Nino said.

“You caught me on a good weekend,” Adrien said.

Marinette went through her work schedule in her head. She could visit her parents Friday night, instead of Sunday, like she originally planned. “I can be free this weekend.”

“Let’s do Saturday morning, so Nino has some time to sleep,” Master Fu suggested. “9AM, in front of Norte Dame.”

“Why do we need to give our miraculouses away?” Nino asked.

“For this trip, we need the guardians and only them. You four will remain the chosen hosts, always tied to your kwami, whether you have the miraculouses with you or not. We don’t know how long you’ll be gone. It’s a precaution, to keep the city safe. Not all of you need to be substituted, just one or two.”

“Tikki, do you want to go with Alya?” Marinette asked. “Also, do you have any clue what Master Fu is talking about?”

“I’m sure Alya will be ecstatic, and a good host,” Tikki said. “Master Fu is right. It would be easier to show you than to explain.”

“Less work for us,” Plagg agreed.

“No one else should have to deal with _you,_ ” Duusu said to the black cat kwami.

Plagg clicked his tongue. “I am also rather selective about my hosts.”

“Okay, chill,” Nino intervened. “I don’t know who else we would give our miraculouses too anyway.”

“Chloé, Sabrina might be willing to host me,” Raafa said. “She is the only other one who knows.”

Chloé’s face lit up at the idea. “I’ll ask.”

“Raafa and I can take care of the city while you four are gone,” Tikki said. “Paris has gotten accustomed to seeing all four heroes together only during akuma attacks anyway.”

Marinette texted Alya on the way home.

 

**[Marinette Dupain-Cheng @ 21h00]**

**The class is going on a field trip that is going to last anywhere from hours to days. Master Fu was very secretive about the information. I think he is still operating under the fact that the last time he gave us an abundance of information we went and did exactly what he told us not to do. & destroyed a miraculous. & what you saw today will apparently be happening again, but not in Paris.**

**The field trip will teach us how to deal with it, hopefully.**

**I don’t know where we’re going, or how long we’ll be there, but we may need substitutes for patrol. I’m asking you. Tikki is okay with it. Can you be Ladybug for this weekend?**

**[Alya Césaire @ 21h07]**

**OMG girl, too much information at once.**

**[Alya Césaire @ 21h09]**

**Yes, I can be Ladybug for the weekend. (I didn’t even know you could do that, but whooooooa, yeah, totally.)**

**Mystery weekend field trip, got it.**

**[Alya Césaire @ 21h10]**

**I think you should be fine for the trip, as we’ve established at this point that Master Fu is not a serial killer, and he’s not taking y’all to an abandoned cabin in the woods with no internet or mobile service.**

**[Alya Césaire @ 21h12]**

**WHAT DO YOU MEAN I CAN BE LADYBUG FOR THE WEEKEND?**

**[Marinette Dupain-Cheng @ 21h20]**

**I think, on Saturday morning, we are going to meet.**

**I will give you my earrings + the purse with Tikki in it.**

**Tikki will guide you through the rest, so don’t worry.**

**[Alya Césaire @ 21h21]**

**And I just realized there is no way I can report on this. Not unless I take a bunch of selfies and then all my followers think I’m just a cosplayer.**

**Goddammit. I get to be Ladybug, and I can’t even tell anybody.**

**[Marinette Dupain-Cheng @ 21h25]**

**All 4 of us will be gone. Sabrina is subbing in for Honeybee, probably, so you’ll have a buddy.**

**[Alya Césaire @ 21h29]**

**Sweet.**

 --

 

Alya was at Marinette’s door step at 8AM. Marinette answered the door as she was brushing her teeth. She gestured for Alya to enter and went back to the bathroom. “Someone’s excited,” she said when she emerged. Alya was sitting in the kitchen island and talking to Tikki. Alya only smiled is response as Marinette retreated into her bedroom to change out of her pajamas. She emerged in red shorts and a white T-shirt. She was also wearing socks, even though it felt too warm in the house for it at present. Master Fu did say hiking. She dug out her sneakers from the shoe cabinet preemptively.

“Of course I believe you guys dealing with this new threat is very important,” Alya said. “I am happy to help in any way I can.”

“And you get to be Ladybug for a weekend.”

“And I get to be Ladybug for a weekend,” Alya agreed. “Do you have anything to eat, by the way?”

Marinette put a hand on her hip but smiled playfully. “Trying to take my job and mooch off me at the same time?”

Alya smirked. “Please and thank you.”

They had coffee and Nutella on baguettes for breakfast. Adrien waved at them sleepily around 8:30 when he made his way, fully dressed, into the bathroom. By the time he was out Marinette had her shoes on, and Alya was putting on the earrings after wiping them down with rubbing alcohol. Adrien took his breakfast to go, and the three of them walked to the metro.

 --

 

They were ten minutes late to the cathedral, but Nino arrived later than them, failing to conceal a huge yawn as he walked up to the group. Sabrina was there, talking to Master Fu, who she had heard a great deal about but had never met. She gave everyone a hug as they approached, and kissed Marinette and Alya’s cheeks.

“I believe the city is in good hands,” Master Fu said with a nod at Alya and Sabrina. “The rest of us will be going through a secret side door to reach the Catacombs.”

“The Catacombs? That’s where we’re going?” Nino adjusted his baseball cap. “We went there on a school trip in _collège_.”

Master Fu started walking on his cane. “Your teachers probably did not tell you, but the Catacombs are a gateway to many things. Many different types of magic. Lots of gods of different realms. Some who do not necessarily get along with each other. If you do get lost, the kwami will know the way, most of the time.”

Marinette glanced back. Alyya and Sabrina were already out of earshot, watching them from the street corner as they waited for the light. When the walk signal came, Sabrina prodded Alya, and the two girls crossed the street, not looking back. They trusted the miraculous users to be fine. Marinette had to trust everything would be fine too, as Master Fu checked no one was paying attention, and then tapped a slab of stone with his cane. “There is a way in through the tourist parts too, but it involves buying tickets and avoiding tour guides.”

“I feel like I’m in a spy movie,” Adrien said aloud. “It’s now the part where we go down to the secret lair that’s not the headquarters and get shown all the cool gadgets.”

“Then, we get a costume upgrade and the plot twist part of the mission,” Nino added, proving he was just as genre-savvy.

They descended down a few flights of stone stairs. Everyone took out their phones to use as flashlights. “I guess the secret lair hasn’t been updated in a while,” Chloé said. “Or there would be an elevator.”

“I’ve always wanted exploding lipstick or pens that shot lasers,” Marinette mused.

They descended down the stars until they reached a long passageway. The surrounding walls were still made of stone. “As the hosts of quantic gods, you will have access to certain doorways,” Master Fu explained as they walked. “One such doorway is in the Paris catacombs. The doorway leads to an even more extensive labyrinth that is linked to the quantic gods. This labyrinth extends all across the world. When you are transformed and more in-tune with your kwami, navigating the labyrinth, and finding its entrances and exits, will be nearly intuitive. As your civilian selves, look for doors with symbols on the walls. Hieroglyphics, runes, whatever they are, if they glow in a supernatural way, and you can see it, it probably leads to the labyrinth you can access. If you can’t see, you should be able to feel a temperate change, either extreme heat or cold, through the door.”

“Like that door?” Adrien pointed towards a door coming up on their left. It wasn’t really a door as much as a large rectangle sunken in slightly compared to the rest of the wall. There was a large eye of Horus glowing a bright, electric blue on it.

“Exactly,” Master Fu said. Nino, who was closest, pushed at the slab of stone and it slid to the side to reveal a markedly different cavern.

“I think there were several indents like these on the way here,” Marinette said. “Without the glowing symbol, of course.

“Different gods. Different magic. Not something you want to poke your nose into unless absolutely necessary,” Master Fu said.

 --

 

“The Quantic labyrinth does seem quite nice,” Chloé said. “Everything is paved and the torches are lighting up as we walk.”

“Thank you,” Master Fu said. “Part of the Guardian’s job is to maintain the labyrinth. The torches light up or dim out at the presence or absence of kwami and their current hosts.” Marinette looked back at the hall they just passed. What had been lit up to reveal rows of tan bricks had gone dark a few paces behind them. Similarly, the torches didn’t light further than two or three meters in front of them.

“Where are we going?” Adrien asked as they made a left turn at a T-shaped fork in the tunnel.

Master Fu pointed with his cane toward the edge of the ceiling, where the torches revealed carvings on the brick. It was one word in various languages. Marinette recognized the romance languages, English, German, and the one character that could have been applied to both Chinese and Japanese: _east._ One largely futile year of Chinese school back in elementary had drilled about ten characters in her head, and not much else. _East_ happened to be one of them.

They hall marked _east_ opened into a circular room with twelve doorways, including the one they came from. At the center of the room was a circular stone table supported by a single leg at its middle. Carved into the table was a compass with sixteen points.

“Not bad for a secret lair,” Nino said.

“Oh, we haven’t reached the secret lair yet,” Master Fu said serenely. Above all the doorways were strings of Arabic numerals Marinette guessed were coordinates, with some hieroglyphics and scripts she couldn’t even begin to identify much less decipher, on them. Master Fu took them through one of the doors. They turned down a few more corridors, walking for what must have been close to two hours.

“Since you have Plagg with you, do you know where we’re going?” Marinette asked Adrien about ten minutes after they’d left the circular room.

“The cat is as unhelpful as ever,” Adrien said. “I have a gut feeling we are walking vaguely east. Also, I don’t know if you noticed, but every corridor is marked with longitude and latitude in Arabic numerals, and an angle. I think the numbers on some of the doors we passed are the elevation, but they made no scene because we’ve just stayed flat underground.”

Marinette had noticed the extra numbers, but hadn’t made the connection herself. Master Fu was humming to himself in front of them, and evading Nino’s questions. Master Fu seemed to get enjoyment out of their unfamiliarity. Chloé complained that the GPS on her phone was completely unresponsive.

They went through a door with glowing red letters (of a script Marinette had never even seen before), that led them through a narrower hallway. A few paces down, they made a sharp right that led them directly to two very steep flights of stairs. At the top of the stairs was a thick wooden door painted red. It opened out into a room with smooth wooden floors and hexagonal windows framed with red-painted wood. Pillars stretched high across the ceiling. To the right of the door they had entered from was an open doorway. Through every window there was a peak of a vast, breathtaking landscape of snow-capped mountains. It had been the middle of summer when they left France.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Master Fu’s voice was wistful, like he was returning to an old haunt. For all they knew, this place could have been exactly that. “Welcome to Tibet.”

 --

 

Nino removed his baseball cap as he peered around the room. “We made it to Tibet in two hours?”

“We _walked_ to Tibet in two hours?” Adrien clarified.

Marinette watched Adrien carefully. There had been a book on Tibet in his Dad’s safe, hadn’t there? She scanned the room for Plagg, who was hovering around Master Fu along with Wayzz and Duusu. The way the sun’s rays streamed through the windows and illuminated the room, Master Fu and the kwami at its center, the quantic gods seemed to fit into the setting perfectly.

Master Fu tapped his cane on the floor. The sound echoed and drew everyone’s attention to him. He was standing before a circular stone table that was about a meter and a half in diameter. “How many of you have heard of ley lines?”

Adrien scratched his head. “They have to do with magic, right?”

“I thought they were a legend,” Marinette offered. She stood directly across from Master Fu. Chloé was to her right, and Adrien and Nino were to her left.

“Some would say, so are all of you.” Master Fu closed his eyes for a few moments as he deliberated. He opened his eyes when he finally decided what exactly to say. “The akuma that appeared in Paris was able to do so due to an accumulation of energy. We can use that event, and the shard that channeled all that energy, as a point of reference. We couldn’t before, because we had no idea what to look for, but this shard will lead us to all the others.”

Chloé pursed her lips. “So they’re like magnets?”

“That is a simple way to look at it, but it is not incorrect,” Master Fu said. “Volpina truly has been spread across the world.” Master Fu addressed the kwami, who were floating precariously in a circle, huddled together above his head. “Can you sense what order they will activate, if there is one?”

“You can make one right now,” Duusu answered. “A map, and the order.”

Marinette had no clue what the blue kwami was talking about, but apparently Master Fu understood. “I’m going to bring back a map,” he said, heading for the door. “I’ll be about five minutes, so if you do run off, be back by then. Try to avoid any booby traps.”

“Where are you going to get a map?” Marinette asked.

“Why, the library of course.”

“This place has a library?” Nino asked. “How big is this place? Does it have a sauna and gym too?” Nino joked.

“There are several hot and cold springs a way down the mountain. Two floors of the temple take up the dojo,” Master Fu informed them.

Nino’s jaw dropped. “Seriously?”

Master Fu regarded them sternly for a few moments. “It would be a waste to come all this way and not give you kids a tour.” He motioned for them to follow him with his cane. “But we’re short on time. We’re only going to the library and back.”

The trip to the library took three times longer than Master Fu said it would because they dawdled and were tempted to look down every corridor and room they passed. The library was also hexagonal. Rows of black bookshelves followed the hexagonal pattern, while the walls were lined with drawers and other compartments. Marinette realized the compartments were for scrolls when Master Fu pulled one out from one of them.

Marinette and Adrien hung back during the detour to the library. “How are you holding up?” She asked Adrien as they were leaving. Master Fu was leading them out with the scroll tucked under one arm.

“We’re in Tibet,” Adrien stated simply, as if it were all the explanation he needed. Marinette waited for him to continue. “I’ve realized that there were a lot of questions I wanted to ask my father. About how he even discovered the miraculous, and why he did what he did.  I obviously couldn’t ask him before. Now, if his memory is truly gone, I can’t ask him either.” Adrien ran his fingers through his hair, and then hunched his shoulders as he put his hands in his pockets. “I can’t help but wonder if my father has been here too.”

Before Adrien could continue, they had reached a different wing of the library. This one contained a stone table that matched the one in the room they just entered, which they all gathered around. Master Fu unfurled the scroll and laid it across the table. “This map is the world in miniature. We, and our one shard, are about here right now.” Master Fu reached into his pocket and took out the orange fragment. He placed the shard somewhere near the Himalayas, then dragged it slowly around the general area with his finger under it sparked and glowed red. “I meant there. It should tell us where the rest of the pieces have been blown to.”

Master Fu looked up at the kwami floating overhead in confirmation. “Wayzz, Plagg, and Duusu have helped us create what is essentially a magic circle” As if on cue, fifteen other dots of red light appeared across the black silhouettes of the seven continents. Knowing the shards would be in densely populated areas, Adrien was the first one to take a stab at testing his geography.

“Milan, New York, Montreal,” he said, pointing to each spot on the map. “And that one’s either São Paulo or Rio de Janeiro, but I’m not sure which.”

“It’s São Paulo,” Chloé supplied. “There’s Cairo and Addis Ababa. Shanghai, I think, and Hong Kong.”

“Taipei,” Marinette said, and then her hand moved across the map. “Copenhagen. Istanbul.”

“London’s the very obvious one,” Nino added. “What’s left is Budapest, Tehran, and Moscow, I think.”

“Very good,” Master Fu said. “I see your educations weren’t for naught.”

Adrien was the first to put together the implication of the labyrinth and the dots on the map. “We can get to all of these places by using the tunnels because they’re powered by ley lines?”

“How will we know where we’re going without you?” Marinette asked. “I mean, unless you plan on coming with us.”

“I’m afraid I can’t.” Master Fu patted Wayzz, who had landed on his shoulder. “If you will be using the labyrinth as frequently as I think will be necessary, it requires further maintenance. I will be busy. However, there is a legend for the symbols etched into the corridors, and guardians over the millennia have attempted to create maps of the maze.

“There are five rooms like the one with the compass and doors we were in earlier. Just remember that detail. They are all connected to each other. One point will bring you to the middle east, which crosses into Europe and Asia.” As Master Fu spoke, he tapped the respective points on the map with his index and middle finger. “Another point is located in Central America, and connects to places in South and North America. Antarctica has its own, though I think it’s only been used once, in all of history. Africa has its own, located at the heart of the continent. The last one is a gateway for this whole bit—Australia, New Zealand, Micronesia, and South East Asia. If you want to access Hawai’i, you go through there as well.

“Each point has twelve immediate doorways. Two will always lead directly to its connecting two points. The other ten branch out and reach numerous destinations. As chosen hosts, you can withstand traveling through the labyrinth. No one else would be able to. They probably wouldn’t even be able to enter very far. So no inviting your friends and using it as a convenient way to avoid airplanes.”

Marinette smiled innocently, as if she hadn’t just been contemplating the thought of inviting Alya or Sabrina along, because they were the only two people in the world they possibly could at the moment. It was a shame. Alya would be so stoked. “How will the rest of the world react to the four of us running around outside of Paris?”

Chloé regarded the map analytically. “If we time it properly, maybe some won’t even have to find out.”

“Vigilantes shouldn’t be above the law,” Nino said, with a wary glance at the rest of them.

“How ironic, considering we already sort-of operate outside of it.” There was a sardonic twist to Adrien’s voice.

What they were doing, what they had been doing for years, could be questionable, depending on your set of morals. Someone was deliberately antagonizing her hometown, and she was gifted with the ability to fix the damage. It was the same principle here, but on a worldwide scale, and Marinette was unsure if other governments would be so lenient about masked heroes. She thanked the gods—all the ones she knew, and the ones she’d only read about in history books and fantasy novels—that, so far, there had been no damage her powers couldn’t reverse. Paris had never asked her or the others to go through the police academy or test them on the nuances of what was considered assault in the court of law and what wasn’t. Paris just took their help as a blessing, and trusted they would use their better judgement.

A dark version of possible events surfaced in Marinette’s mind—which was likely from the influence of Adrien and Nino’s comic books. They were into both French and American comics, as well as Japanese _manga_. Marinette had to admit that volumes of _Paper Girls, Ms. Marvel,_ and _Persepolis_ were enticing. She’d even taken to reading some of _One Punch Man_ translated into French on Adrien’s recommendation. In it, and all the comics having to do with superheroes, government agendas and registering abilities had its advantages and pitfalls. Also, there was the fear of having their superpowers mobilized for _other_ things. “When the world realizes akuma have spread, we should re-issue a statement saying we will only deal with matters of magic., That we have no authority over anything else, happening in the nations we show up in.” Marinette suggested. They had done so when Ladybug and Chat has first appeared, and again when Honeybee had joined them, bringing them up to a company of four. The others agreed.

“Is there a time limit?” Chloé asked. “I would love to just take it easy for a while.” Marinette couldn’t tell if she was joking or not. Probably a bit of both.

Master Fu nodded. “If you leave the shards for too long, they will end up manifesting on their own in due time. They react to the power of kwami and miraculouses. Of course the one in Paris reacted first, because of all the residual energy from all the akuma attacks, and your constant presence there. In all the other cities, it may take time to build up.”

Master Fu paused, and stroked his beard pensively, which Marinette thought was comically cliché. Adrien must have been thinking the same thing, because they caught each other’s eye across the table and grinned briefly. “There is another theory of mine,” Master Fu said. “In the same way that kwami can sense each other, Volpina should still react to the presence of the hosts. I can imagine that after sitting for weeks in some distant land, the sudden proximity of so many kwami and hosts would be like an electric shock. Jolted awake, an akuma could form as a result.”

Adrien’s face turned serious again. “So what you are saying is, if we leave the shards alone, eventually, they will form shadow fox akumas and wreak havoc.” He sighed. “However, if we attempt to hunt them down, they will definitely form shadow fox akumas, and wreak havoc.”

“Is there a way to just collect the shards?” Nino asked. “Dig them out from under a tree of something like a scavenger hunt?”

It was Duusu who spoke this time, hovering over the map and casting a shadow across parts of Russia, Kazakhstan, Mongolia, and China. “Given the time the shards have been lying around, I’m sure they’ve already picked up on bad vibes. With so many people around, it doesn’t take very long.”

“So we go hunting,” Chloé said firmly. “At least that way, we know to expect the attack.”

“We shouldn’t let them sit too long, but we also can’t go rampaging all at once.” Marinette stared at the map, trying to commit the cities to memory. Everyone else had already picked up their phones and snapped up pictures. “Not if it will take us hours to walk places.”

“Look on the bright side, guys,” Adrien said. “It’s a better situation than waiting and not knowing. Now, we can plan. We can strategize. If Volpina won’t attack until we poke it, we’ve got the upper hand.”

What Adrien was saying was reasonable. Marinette couldn’t help but worry. Between the four of them, coping with the aftermath of defeating the villain was a topic they danced around, or avoided talking about at all. Adrien definitely had the worst of it. The shell shock was hard enough to keep at bay without a new threat on the rise. What happened to PTSD when you were brought right back into the thick of it, and the “post” part didn’t apply anymore? Had they ever really gotten to the “post” part? Marinette made a mental note to do some research.

Chloé chuckled softly. “We can even make a schedule, if Master Fu’s theories are correct.”

“Ha. Alright,” Nino said. He addressed the entire group. “Where do you want to visit first?”

“Before you kids decide, you might want to know more about the tunnels,” Master Fu said. He walked off and returned a few moments later rolling a green chalkboard. There were even sticks of white chalk in the chalk holder. Master Fu chortled at their incredulous looks.

“Didn’t expect to see modern technology in a temple older than you can imagine?” Plagg asked.

“Something like that,” Marinette admitted.

“It is a library, after all,” Master Fu said. “Though I must admit, I wasn’t the one who added the chalkboard. Did I furnish this place at all, actually?”

“You bought a couple of cushions,” Wayzz stated. “And a Roomba, but it’s hardly ever used.”

“There is a Roomba running around here somewhere?” Nino asked. “How does it even get charged?”

“I’m more curious about how the labyrinth tunnels connect,” Marinette said. Although the thought of a tiny vacuum making its way around stone pillars and bumping into millennia-old stairs was amusing.

“Yes, the tunnels.” Master Fu picked up a piece of chalk and drew a pentagon on the board. He proceeded to rub the edges of each corner away with his fingers, drawing a circle in its place. At the 12 o’clock circle he wrote the words “Africa.” Master Fu went clockwise from there. _N+S+ Central America. Antarctica. Australia, NZ, Micronesia, Hawai’i. Europe + Asia + Middle East._

So from the center point nearest Paris, they could also connect to Africa or Australia. If they wanted to get to one of the Americas from Paris, they would have to go through the center point that connected to all of Africa first. Even knowing this, navigating the tunnels could get difficult with Marinette’s sense of direction.

“I’ll find more detailed maps for you kids,” Master Fu offered.

The five of them spent hours there—plotting, planning, and exploring the rest of the grounds. They used the fully stocked kitchen when they got hungry. The kitchen was complete with cheese and flowers for the kwami. Marinette got excited when she saw sweets, but then realized that Tikki wasn’t there to eat them at the moment.

They drew out the length of their stay because, the way they rationalized it, they were probably not returning any time soon. Despite the trip taking no longer than a rather brutal commute to Paris from its outskirts (according to Nino), it would still be a four-hour round trip and Marinette could not conceptualize going to freakin’ Tibet at her leisure. She might as well explore while she had the chance. If they wished to contact her, her parents would call Alya if they couldn’t reach her or Adrien. They would assume she wasn’t picking up because she was locked in the atelier again. Plus, she trusted Alya and Sabrina to take care of Paris. She trusted Tikki and Raafa to take care of their temporary hosts.

Adrien had the same idea as her. Once they “tour” was over he pulled her aside. “Want to take a walk?” He asked.

Marinette took his hand. “I’d love to.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, the long-promised plot.  
> Please leave a comment or kudos if you can. I hope the next chapter will be out more quickly.


	8. Greener Grass

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Present: The quantic squad are in Tibet  
> Past: Leaps of faith that come with the wild ride that is growing up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Holidays, everyone! Here is an update in time for Christmas/Hanukkah.

Transforming into Ladybug reminded Alya of when she was first learning to rollerblade. She had been apprehensive, but had inched forward steadily as her little brother looked on in awe from his tricycle. He hadn’t been old enough to try yet, a fact that had made Alya smug and keen to impress. Now, Alya was even more determined to do well. If she was only Ladybug for one night in her life, Alya would make the most of it.

The magic helped a lot, Alya quickly found out. She felt surer on her feet leaping across rooftops than she ever thought possible. She knew the Paris skyline. It was printed in textbooks and on postcards and posters across the world. She knew its sites, but it was different now, standing above it all, listening for a cry for help or trying to spot suspicious activities. She passed restaurants just closing, the owners taking out the garbage for the day, and people smoking on street corners. Young people meeting at stations for the nightlife and people rolling out of cars in business suits, just returning from work. There were the bits of the city she knew existed, but had the privilege of ignoring or avoiding during her day-to-day life, like the homeless people sleeping in the parks or on street corners. It sucked, she thought, that she had literal superpowers at the moment, but there were still gaps in society to mend, prejudices to unlearn, and a larger system at play that she couldn’t fix. Not in its entirety. Not by herself.

Alya saw a light-footed figure approach her slowly, dressed in yellow and black. The dim lighting on the roof concealed how much Sabrina’s red hair was clashing with Honeybee’s costume.

“How are you holding up?” Alya asked.

“It’s okay,” Sabrina said. The bee costume was slightly altered on Sabrina. Her hair hung lose, like Alya’s did, and there was no black ribbon, but the hair comb had merged with the circlet that was currently atop Sabrina’s head. Like with Nino and herself, Sabrina’s mask had become a pair of prescription goggles. Meanwhile, Alya’s costume had lost the red ribbons entirely.

“I didn’t realize I was a little afraid of heights until recently, about five minutes ago,” Sabrina continued.  “But the view is amazing, so I’m using it to distract myself. Raafa is very nice to me.”

“Tikki is an absolute doll,” Alya agreed.

“I’m glad the bee comb is attached to the circlet now.” Sabrina touched her hair self-consciously. “My hair is too fine. The comb wouldn’t have stayed in.  Most hair ties slip out of my hair after an hour or so.”

They were dressed as two of Paris’s superheroes, and acting like the real things, but it wouldn’t be very hard to tell that they were different people. Alya wished she had a camera. There would be conspiracy theories and people itching for photographic evidence. The forums would be going crazy, but what would she say in her blog now?

“I feel weird,” Sabrina admitted. “Dizzy.”

“The transformation,” Alya realized. “It must be wearing off because we’re not the true hosts.” Alya felt the lights of the city blur and the ground spun briefly, and then she was back in shorts, sneakers, and a black T-shirt with a cupcake on it. Sabrina was in a green blouse and black jumper. Raafa reassured them this was normal.

“Now we just wait it out and give you food until we can transform again, right?” Alya asked.

Tikki nodded. “You know, Alya, when Marinette first got her miraculous, her initial instinct was to reject that she had been chosen,” Tikki informed them. “She didn’t think she was cut out to be a superhero. She tried to slip the earrings into your bag, and pass the responsibility on to you.”

It took a few moments for Alya to reply. “I’m glad she didn’t. The earrings are nice, but I don’t think I’d want to keep them forever. Plus, Marinette makes a great superhero. If I were Ladybug, I don’t think I would have worked as well with Chat, especially at first.”

Tikki zipped around in circles. “No?”

“We would have butted heads or been too cold towards each other. Besides, I like running the Ladyblog.” She really did, Alya realized. It was such a large part of her life now, like making clothes was a part of Marinette’s.

“Chloé was terrified when she first got the miraculous,” Raafa said. “She covered it up very well, though. Pretended she knew exactly what she was doing, and faked the confidence until it became real.”

Sabrina scoffed. “Sure sounds like her. I would have to agree with Alya. It would be fun at first, but I’m not sure I could make it routine.”

“You would be surprised what you can adapt to,” Raafa said. “You might surprise yourself with a reserve of strength you didn’t know you had until it really mattered.”

“Ha, I’ll say,” Sabrina said. “I’m really glad you chose who you did, Raafa.”

Raafa hummed. “She earned it.”

**\--**

 

**Two Years Ago**

By the time it was April, Marinette she texted Adrien and Alya regularly, and Nino nearly as much. Therefore, the text that arrived during the first Sunday of April from Adrien was only mildly surprising.

 

**[Adrien Agreste @ 16h56]**

**I tried see, I really did.**

Attached was a picture of very burnt checkerboard cookies, which Adrien most likely made. The week prior, Marinette had mentioned how much fun baking _could_ be if you weren’t doing it to sell to Adrien.

**[Marinette Dupain-Cheng @ 16h58]**

**Must be a new version of checkers where the grid is more like a suggestion, and the pieces are a free-for-all. Did you try to eat them?**

**[Adrien Agreste @ 17h00]**

**: (  You’re mean.**

**I was forced to throw them out. Kitchen staff whipped me up a proper batch out of pity. Theodosia, the housekeeper, is more like a grandmother than my actual grandmother. My father’s mother, who likes to smoke cigars and wears silk scarves inside.**

**[Marinette Dupain-Cheng @ 17h02]**

**You told me about her (your gran). She’s the one who let you have a shot of vodka when you were eight because you asked and she didn’t care. You did a spit-take onto her cat and the mini Doberman Pinscher.**

**[Adrien Agreste @ 17h05]**

**I still shudder at the memory. You know the cat went out of its way to scratch me after that? I wonder if it would like me better now, if it were still alive.**

**The dog still likes me. I was turned off alcohol for ages after. I had to be bribed into drinking sips of wine at events where it was considered rude not to.**

**[Marinette Dupain-Cheng @ 17h06]**

**Sometimes I think bits of your childhood came out of a TV drama. Were the sympathy cookies good?**

**[Adrien Agreste @ 17h07]**

**They were. I’ll bring some to school tomorrow. I wish I could have made them myself successfully, though.**

**[Marinette Dupain-Cheng @ 17h10]**

**I’ll help you. Come to my house. I’ll ask Papa to keep the oven on a little longer, and we can try after school sometime next week.**

**[Adrien Agreste @ 17h10]**

**Really? Awesome. I’ll let you know when.**

Marinette received another message from Adrien shortly before dinner time, after she had already spoken with her father.

 

**[Adrien Agreste @ 19h05]**

**I’m free Wednesday night.**

**[Marinette Dupain-Cheng @ 19h06]**

**Sorry, I presumed too much >.< Papa has a huge cake order to take care of, so he wouldn’t be able to shut off the kitchen anyway, but we can’t use it.**

**[Adrien Agreste @ 19h15]**

**Why don’t you just come to my place? It’s not quite an industrial-kitchen, but I’m sure you can make do.**

**[Marinette Dupain-Cheng @ 19h15]**

**T.T**

**Wednesday night?**

**[Adrien Agreste @ 19h16]**

**Right before patrol. We have to freeze the cookie dough for a while. Probably do the actual baking over the weekend?**

 

The cookies turned out decent. They also provided great fodder for Alya.

“Are you two seriously going to just dance around this thing?” Alya gestured wildly with her hands in Marinette’s general direction. They were talking Thursday after school, in a café over Belgium waffles and iced drinks. “I’ve watched you two for months now, both in and outside of the masks, and how are you two not together yet?!”

“We’re friends,” Marinette said defensively with a shrug. She sipped her raspberry iced tea.

“You baked cookies just for fun at his house.” Alya sounded increasingly flabbergasted. It was almost fun to watch. “How many sixteen year-old boys do you know who would be willing to put on an apron and just stay home and bake for the weekend?”

“Who wouldn’t?” Marinette was also pretty sure her father, and a fair number of his friends from culinary school were one hundred percent that kid, but bringing it up seemed a bit unfair. “I would bake at your house, but last time we tried that you little brothers ate half the cookie dough before the stuff when into the oven. And didn’t your sister get cake batter in her hair? I remember you telling me she smelled like chocolate.”

Alya spoke between bites of waffle. “Oh please, you know what I mean.” She brandished the handle of her fork at Marinette accusingly. “Please get you act together. I thought this was painful to watch when you were two bumbling, oblivious idiots. He likes you, he likes both sides of you, even if he hasn’t said as much. And you clearly like him. I’d say you like him even more than before, so give a girl something to work with here! It’s nearly summer, and you two have not made any progress, except you talk every day and spend all the time you can together.”

Marinette sighed and slumped her shoulders. “Okay, he’s my best friend.”

Alya stabbed her waffle dramatically. “Hey, I thought I was your best friend!” She pouted and glared simultaneously. “I’m not giving that seat up. Model or no, I will fight him for it.”

Marinette patted Alya’s hand reassuringly. “He’s one of my two best friends.” Marinette’s face turned a bit more somber. “And its fine,” she added hastily.

Alya picked up on Marinette’s shift in tone. “But it shouldn’t be. You two are so good together. How could you not see it?”

Marinette squirmed in her seat. “You and Nino were good together too,” she pointed out.

Alya approached the comment with a practiced ease. “That’s beside the point. Nino and I are still friends. The breakup was mutual. We were us. You guys are you.”

The will-they, won’t-they game had come to a halt as Alya and Nino had announced to the lunch table that they were no longer together at the end of May. They proceeded to argue over who was going to do what on the history project like nothing was amiss. Jukela had a bet that they were going to get back together by summer. Marinette ran her fork through a piece of strawberry coated in syrup, until she reached the waffle underneath.

How could Marinette explain her feelings toward Adrien in so many words? She loved Chat. She’d realized it as Ladybug, before she even knew who was behind the mask. She loved him as a partner, at times, a literal lifesaver, and as comic relief. His antics and stupid puns reminded her not to take her superhero life too seriously. When things got inevitably difficult, having him there lessened the blow. Celeste’s presence she had another layer of kinship with Nino. Their dynamic shifted easily to include him, but with Chat it was different. It was different in a way that Marinette tried not to think about too deeply about.

Her friendships had deepened with everyone who knew her secret. Alya loved coming up with wild excuses for why all three of them were missing from class at times. She didn’t bat an eye as they transformed in front of her, and played it obtuse on the blog. They greeted Alya on patrol. She knew to look out for them in a sort of coy friendliness and was often more excited for their powers that they were. She also kept the best catalogue of all the akuma they fought. They had taken both Nino and Alya up to their spot on the Eifel Tower. The four of them were not only friends, they were a team.

The same went for Adrien, who was honestly the person she was closest to (sorry Alya). It may have baffled Alya that they weren’t together, but Marinette wasn’t shocked.

They were so many things to each other that to add one more seemed… she wasn’t sure how to describe it. Marinette had long accepted that Adrien would be perfect in her eyes—not because she idolized him, but because she no longer did. Marinette guessed that was what love did. It rewired your brain. It changed your perceptions and the entire world shifted. Marinette had gotten used to the idea of Adrien sending her heart on a tailspin. He’d done so since she was fifteen. He’s done so every time he surprised her. He’d done so when he said “hi” this morning and when he left black cat stickers on her desk because he just so happened to see them at the store and bought them for her. She liked him. She had still liked him that time she confessed she had a crush on him, and revealed her identity, and emphasized past tense.

Because she knew even then, it had become a lot more than a crush, and she was okay with it. Alya would have called her biased, but she knew. She couldn’t have picked a better person to lose her heart to.

And it scared the heck out of her.

They hadn’t talked about their feelings since that time before Marinette had revealed her identity. It still hung in the air between them, like the scent of orange blossoms, falling and waiting to be collected. At first, it had been due to general apathy. But then Nino had picked up Duusu and Alya had joined the party, and there was life in general. The akuma attacks seemed to be getting even more frequent, as if the appearance of a new miraculous user had further incentivized Hawkmoth. Speaking of, there was the matter of Hawkmoth’s identity, which Marinette still tread around like it was broken glass.

Plus, Adrien hasn’t brought it up at all. He was probably just being nice. Their relationship had evolved into something comfortable. He was involved in so many things, and met so many new people on a regular basis, Marinette wouldn’t be surprised if he announced he had a girlfriend, a teen model, or a piano prodigy on his arm. Plus, they had to get more selective about their tracks for school, and things would only get busier.

What scared her more: what if she actually asked him out, and he said yes. (If it was the other way around, she would say yes, no question. However, as Alya pointed out on multiple occasions, the blond boy was so shy Marinette would probably have to make the first move. All the flirting he did as Chat Noir did not count because it was such a large part of their dynamic that it had become second nature.) What if he said yes, and they were a couple? What would happen to them?

“Statistically speaking, most high school couples don’t stay together.” Marinette said that to Alya without thinking about it, and immediately covered her mouth. “Sorry, I…”

Alya sighed. “It’s true. It’s fine.”

“But…”

Alya raised an eyebrow and glared. “Don’t try to turn this into a conversation about my love life. We’re picking apart yours.”

“Um.” Marinette took another sip of her drink.

“Statistically speaking, it’s true. But I expect you of all people to know you can be more than just a number or what everyone tells you to be. I mean, considering you _are_ Ladybug.” Alya had a dreamy stars-in-eyes moment before turning into the nagging best friend again. “If you were to start dating, don’t you believe it would last?”

Marinette looked off to the side without replying so Alya continued talking. “Look, according to statistics, most people don’t remain friends with their exes, right? But look at me and Nino.”

Marinette blurted out the words before she thought them through. “You guys are different. You guys are you. Plus, the whole superhero thing.”

Alya gave Marinette a pointed, smug look. “I didn’t start a relationship with Nino thinking it would end. I spent a darned awful lot of time working so it wouldn’t, hoping that it wouldn’t. Entering a relationship just thinking about its end: that’s an awful attitude to have, don’t you think? Maybe it’s good you haven’t made a move yet, because it would be pretty sad to start off like that—like jumping into a car to wait for the crash.

“Yeah, we broke up, and it kind of sucks, but it kind of doesn’t, especially anymore, and even though it ended, I’ve never regretted going out with him, and I know he feels the same way.” Alya shrugged. “Maybe we’re just lucky, I guess. But if there’s anything you have on your side, it’s luck, right My Lady?” Alya winked at her playfully.

Marinette bit her lip and shook her head. There was a reason the prospect scared her so much. “If we broke up, nothing would ever be the same. I’m not sure I could survive it. I’m not sure…”

Alya put her head in her hands overdramatically, and then perked up to speak again. “Oh lord, what a shoddy superhero you are. Aren’t you supposed to inspire hope? Well, pro-tip, you are a lot stronger than you think you are, and I don’t think you’re giving either you or Adrien enough credit. What do you have to lose?”

_Everything,_ Marinette thought. _The entirety of what they built, washed away in an instant and leaving them stranded. It would be the worst way to be lost—with two feet planted as the rest of the world spins._

“Everything would change,” Marinette managed to croak out.

Alya patted Marinette’s head. “Everything is going to change whether you like it or not. I just gave this tough love to my little brother who is graduating _école_. I have to go big-sister on you too? It’s called growing up.”

Change it did. Not with her and Adrien exactly. They had not moved from the easy rhythm they were still spinning around in, like binary stars in each other’s orbit, pulled by force to go in circles, but always a certain distance apart. There was also Hawkmoth to deal with semi-regularly. The big shift was her life getting busy as Marinette. The advisors at _lycée_ really started to emphasize picking tracks and getting into university. Most of their classmates were aiming for somewhere academic. Adrien had gone with the subject he liked best—physics.

Marinette was on the fence. She had chosen the social science track. However, there were brochures for various institutes for fashion lying aside the usual university ones in her house.

One evening when Adrien had a photoshoot and sent them lonely looking emojjis from wherever he was, Marinette had a talk with Nino as Celeste as they were doing a patrol together. Nino confessed he was thinking about forgoing university entirely to try to go pro in music. As it was approaching mid-June, _seconde_ was ending _._ Their teachers and academic advisors reminded them of their upcoming exams often.

Marinette was left to really consider design school. Did she want to turn it into a reality? It was a lot more money than getting into the public universities everyone knew they were very well prepared for. It would be completely new territory. She had never even taken a formal sewing class.

The night was interrupted by an akuma attack, and Marinette didn’t think about it or dwell on it for weeks after because all her attention was swept up by the attack, and then patrol ended and summer started. They went to the beach. Marinette got roped into a couple of sailing lessons (as Adrien so artfully put it) and she got a ticket to one of Adrien’s piano competitions.

 

(“It’s probably the last one I’ll do for a while” Adrien had confessed to her once they were waiting in the lobby of the venue together for the results. “I want to focus more on other things.”

“You father?” Marinette ventured to ask.

“He understands,” Adrien said as he pulled at his shirt collar. He looked stunning in tailcoats. “He does not mind if the time will go more into Chinese and my studies in general. Maybe I should have chosen the language track, but the sciences are so much more interesting.”

“Do you know anyone else from _lycée_ doing it?” Marinette asked.

“Max for certain. Kim, last I talked to him. Oh, and Sabrina,” Adrien said. Marinette swatted his hands away and scandalously loosened his tie a bit.

“No one is going to notice,” she whispered. “You can put it back if you have to go on stage again.”

Adrien looked equal parts shocked and giddy. “If I get in trouble, I’ll blame you.”

Marinette saluted in understanding. “You talked to Sabrina and Chloé?”

“Not for months,” Adrien admitted. “I just heard someone else mention it.”)

 

Thoughts about her plans as Marinette ate at her that summer. (As Ladybug, things were simpler, if not easier.) She took a week off to visit family in Bordeaux and Vienna. She texted Adrien, Alya, and Nino every day during the trip. Mostly Adrien.

A lot of other things kept her busy that summer, like working shifts at her parents’ bakery for more spending money and in order to save up for something… big. She also attended one of Nino’s first live shows, which was her first time in a mosh pit.

Nino’s first gig was mid-July. The show was in La Chapelle. It was cramped inside the venue itself, with a startling number of English speaking tourists among the audience. Nino was opening for a heavy metal band who would play four songs in their set. It was called a live show, but Nino was mixing beats rather than playing live instruments. Marinette, Adrien, and Alya snuck in and were quickly swallowed up by the crowd. In the darkness, Adrien probably wouldn’t be recognized. Marinette and Adrien showed up in T-shirts and jeans, but Alya took it as a chance to wear a sparkly, bright gold top that looked stunning against her copper-toned skin.

“If we get separated, just look for the sparkles reflecting off Alya’s shirt,” Marinette joked. To be heard over the crowd she had to tip-toe to whisper into Adrien’s ear.

“It’s a very noticeable shirt,” Adrien said.

Alya tossed her hair back. “Please, this shirt isn’t even going to stand out.”

“We’re not in a club at 3AM,” Marinette pointed out.

“The set he’s opening for might be heavy metal, but we’re basically in a club. Except they only card at the bar.”

It was more of a rave than a club, but Alya’s shirt really didn’t stand out much. To ensure the three of them would stay together, Alya grabbed both Adrien and Marinette’s hands.

She then, not-so-subtly, put their hands together and moved to Marinette’s other side and looped her own arm with Marinette’s.

Marinette knew the flush she felt wasn’t because of the masses of concert-goers and the body heat. Adrien glanced over and shrugged with a “what-can-you-do?” sort of expression, but didn’t let go. They stood in the crowd, turned toward the stage as Nino came on. Marinette snuck glances at Adrien out of her periphery but tried to keep her head turned forward as the music thrummed and vibrated through the room. She was very aware of her head next to his shoulder, her hair brushing against him every so often when they were pushed together by the crowd. Nino’s opening was twenty minutes long. They held hands the entire time. 

After the show Adrien bought a small, six-flower bouquet for Nino, which he promptly fed to Duusu before they got to the Korean place. Marinette carried cookies with her, and Adrien bought some cheese at a convenience store they passed. They were out of camembert, so Plagg had to deal with the “atrocity” of Swiss.

The Korean barbecue place they went to for dinner that night seated them in a booth in the back corner. They gave a toast to Nino with their glasses of water (except Adrien, who had Ribena, a British soft drink everyone was taking sips of by the end). To Nino and the summer they were sixteen. Nino and Marinette handled the tongs used to cook the strips of beef and pork. They decided on cooking the beef first.

“How did you like the stage?” Adrien asked with curiosity.

“It was a little overwhelming at first,” Nino said as he flipped a strip of beef over. “In the end, I liked it. I was so nervous! Could you tell?”

“You seemed very cool and collected,” Marinette reassured him.

“So you are going to do it?” Alya asked pointedly. “Try to make it big?”

Nino paused, and seemed deep in thought until Marinette reached over with her own pair of tongs to remove the beef strip in front of him to keep it from burning. “I’m considering it,” Nino said as he took care of the four other beef strips in front of him. Marinette went back to putting her last round of beef strips on the burner. Nino handed his tongs to Alya to cook the pork, which he wouldn’t be eating anyway. He and Adrien worked in arranging the lettuce and pickled vegetables on the plates.

“Hey, you have time to decide.” Alya said cheerfully. “We’re only sixteen.”

“Yeah, well, I’m not sure how my parents would feel about it. They were very happy when they found out I’d picked the hard science track. They are linking the idea to some lofty

ambitions. I don’t have the heart to tell them that I just like math a lot more than the other subjects because it connects to music.”

“You’ll figure it out when the time comes. Just focus on getting through school. I’m lucky my mom’s cool with whatever I do, as long as it’s something I really love.” It made sense, given Alya’s mom was a fairly successful chef.

“Why did you pick social science over literature, Alya? You want to focus on writing, don’t you?” Adrien asked.

“I am interested, but the reason I want to do journalism is not purely for writing. It’s for the social parts that come with it, so I thought it would be a better fit. Plus, it’s interesting to pick at how humans think.”

Marinette stared intensely at the cooking meat as Alya and Nino speculated about how their schedules would be different since they were all on different tracks, and how it would work out with lunch and classes.

Marinette dropped her tongs, and quickly picked them off the grill before they got too hot.

“Marinette?” Alya asked at the same time Adrien asked, “You okay?”

“I just realized we won’t be in a lot of the same classes next year anymore,” Marinette said. “Maybe one or two classes, but not like last year.”

“Thank goodness for lunch, then,” Adrien said as he started to eat.

Marinette picked up her chopsticks and grabbed a bit of daikon radish before starting on the beef strips on her plate.

_I just realized how everything will start to change, though I’ve never been as happy and as comfortable as I am now. I just realized how much tuition I might be paying, not like the low cost of the lovely, state-funded schools, for a very specialized education that has a low rate of hire and is an incredibly difficult industry to break into._ It would be a lot of money. It would be a huge risk. Her ambitions could be scathed by harsh realities. She didn’t want to burden her parents with such a huge expense.

Marinette remembered visiting a second cousin in Vienna, who went to a fairly standard school. They learned a lot sharing their different school experiences. He had to commute to school, and the classroom equipment was not nearly as nice as what she was used to. She had heard from her mother about very distant relatives who still lived in the rural parts of China, where the entire school system, for all thirteen years, encompassed less than 100 pupils. The students were crammed into one building with hand-me-down textbooks to share and half the lights shut off to save money.

_So much of your life was determined by where you were born—the school you went to, the view you had from your bedroom window, the things you had within walking distance._ Marinette had gone to one of nicest schools in the country, and received the most privileged education. It felt like a bit of a waste to throw it all away. She was lucky her parents would support her no matter what. Now, it was only a matter of making the best choice.

_What a vague term, “best choice.” Best for who? Best in what terms?_

They got gelato after dinner from a stand that was open famously late. Marinette bought hazelnut while Adrien got blueberry. She sampled a bit of Alya’s strawberry and Nino’s tiramisu, as well as Adrien’s blueberry when everyone was trying each other’s flavors.

“I really like the hazelnut. Can I have another bite?” Adrien asked as he offered her some more blueberry in exchange. The cup was half-empty.

“We can just switch,” Marinette said. “You want most of it, don’t you?”

Adrien looked down at her guiltily.

“The blueberry tasted fine,” Marinette said as she pressed her cup into his hands. She plucked her spoon out of the hazelnut and stuck it into the blueberry. Adrien’s spoon was still in his hand.

“You’re amazing,” Adrien said sincerely.

“Gee, if giving you ice cream was all it took for you to think of me that way,” Marinette said jokingly.  
He scooped up a huge chunk of hazelnut.

“You’re going to finish it in two bites?! You are supposed to savor it.”

Adrien hummed, as the spoon was still in his mouth. When he finished the bite, he spoke. “You’ve got some ice cream on your cheek,” he said as he put the spoon back in the cup and reached out. His thumb grazed her left cheek and moved down to her jaw. His fingers were cold, and she could feel the callouses on them. Marinette looked up at him. They stood centimeters apart, and Marinette could feel the cup of ice cream melting in her hands. Marinette turned away first, looking to the right, where Alya and Nino should have been walking ahead of them, and saw they were nowhere to be found. (If Alya had seen, Marinette wouldn’t have heard the end of it.) “We lost Alya and Nino,” Marinette said with a start.

“They must have turned the corner.” Adrien stepped back. He wolfed down the rest of the gelato and tossed the cup and spoon out in the nearest trash bin. Marinette was still working on hers when they caught up with the other two, who were walked ahead, but at a deliberately slow place.

“Did you two get lost?” Alya asked airily.  
Marinette could form coherent sentences again by this point. “Adrien wanted to switch ice cream. We had to negotiate.”

As the days went on Marinette felt like she was no closer to arriving at her answer. _It was worth a shot, it couldn’t hurt to try,_ a little voice was telling her. Except the logical part of her brain reminded her that her wallet would hurt for certain. She wondered how much her parents realized the seriousness of her hobby. She hasn’t mentioned her ambitions to her advisor since the initial conversation. _Oh, fashion? Really? That industry?_ Her advisor had said, and the walls of that office seemed to start caving in. _It’s going to be tough, and why would you want to go through it? Maybe take an art course, then? Our school doesn’t offer a full track for it. I still think you’re wasting a lot of potential._

“It’s not shame, as much as guilt,” Marinette mused to Tikki during one of her bouts of thinking out loud.

“I think you could do it, if you wanted it badly enough. Forget discouraging statistics and systematic improbabilities.” Tikki said those words with such fire and will, that Marinette was taken aback slightly. There was more to the strength of her words than just the determination. There was a sadness too, one Marinette wouldn’t have recognized 2 years ago, when she first got the miraculous. Tikki wasn’t always chipper and sweet, however she pretended to be. When Marinette had pointed it out once, Tikki had nuzzled her hand.

“Sometimes the people who seem the happiest hold the most sadness inside them,” the kwami said. Marinette had to agree, especially looking at Adrien. Marinette, on the other hand, was very transparent with her emotions. She skittered around the subject of applying for schools when her parents asked.

It wasn’t until towards the end of July that Adrien, in the form of Chat, finally cornered her into talking about what had her more out of sorts than usual. They were on top of the Eiffel Tower on a Tuesday night after a patrol that was just the two of them. They were in their spot, overlooking their city. The summer heat bothered her less when she was in costume. The slight breeze from the Seine helped. It was the way he asked: kindly, apprehensively, so much more like Adrien than Chat, with only the best intentions, that Ladybug told him. The words came out a jumbled mess, but she finally voiced it aloud to someone who wasn’t Tikki. “Do you think it’s a crazy idea?”

“Of course not.” His reply came easily, like clear water in a stream, like saying the words was the most natural thing in the world. “You want to try, right? For _l’ecole de la chambre syndicale_? Do it. You’ll do great.”

“But there’s the money, and the low chance, and my advisor said... well, she wants me to play it safe. I do want to sit for the exams, to see how I would do, and as a backup.”

“My dad went there, but he’s not the best person to ask for advice.”

They stopped the conversation to get ice cream because Ladybug, in a very Marinette-like way suggested it. Chat raised an eyebrow but agreed. When they got to the nearest gelato place they were still in costume.

“Um, you can have it for free,” the person at the counter said, his eyes as wide as saucers. Ladybug paid for both of them because they had passed her room, where she pilfered money, on the way. The manager asked for a picture, which they gave. Marinette would see the picture framed up on the wall the next time she went into the store.  
Ladybug tried black sesame while Chat Noir got strawberry cheesecake.

The conversation picked up when they were back on top of the tower, sitting side by side, and their cups were about half full.

“I was talking to Nino about his music thing. I don’t really know why you guys keep wanting to talk to me about this stuff. I mean, I have it just about as figured out as you do. Honestly, maybe I just got lucky that what I’m interested in is the option the school likes. But I told Nino that he should follow his heart. There are worse things to do than chase after your dreams.”

“I’ll talk to my parents about it. They’ve never been anything but supportive, so I think it will be fine.” They both finished their ice cream. Ladybug stacked their empty cups and put it off to the side before she spoke again, looking out into the cityscape. “It still scares me, though.”

Chat put a hand on her right shoulder, and she turned to him to stare at those luminescent eyes. “I know you have your doubts, but as Ladybug or as Marinette, I’ve never known you to be lacking willpower.”

Her breath caught at the words. At the surety which he said them, at his constant, unfailing kindness. _What did I do to deserve you?_ Ladybug thought, and then spoke. “T-thanks. I would say the same to you. Also, Chat, I know you have your doubts too, but I think your best trait is how nice you are. Whatever is to happen, never lose that part of you, Chat, Adrien. There is so much strength in that goodness.”

“I, um, never thought of it that way. No one’s ever said something so nice to me before,” Chat said, flustered. ( _Adorably so,_ Ladybug thought.) “I could kiss you right now,” he continued, and it was a straight shot to Marinette’s heart.

She wasn’t sure if he was saying so as Adrien or Chat and it was probably both and the combination was going to make her brain implode.

“You should,” she said instead. She grinned wickedly as his eyes bulged. “Cat got your tongue?” _It_ was _fun,_ she thought to herself. She could see why Chat had made such a sport of it.

He leaned forward close enough that she could smell the lemon scent of his shampoo, and kissed her. She closed her eyes like it was the first time kissing him again; that time he didn’t remember. Her hands found their way into his hair, her fingertips brushing against the leather of his cat ears as his arms wrapped themselves around her waist.

Marinette thought she knew magic when she was flying across Paris on her yoyo. When glowing ladybugs swarmed at her fingertips. When butterflies were caught and akuma de-evilized as if the reset button they all needed sometimes had been pressed. She thought she knew magic each time she felt Tikki’s energy surge through her. It could still surprise her sometimes, like discovering a new shop in a familiar neighborhood, each time she had to use Chat Noir’s baton or ran through a new battle maneuver correctly.

Well, there was magic, and there was kissing Chat Noir. Kissing _Adrien._

She was unsure of how long it had been when they finally broke apart. Ladybug was trying to control the rapid rise and fall of her chest as Chat stared at her with those wild green eyes.

“I-uh-I thought you didn’t like me that way? Not anymore? That you’d gotten over your crush on me.” His arms were still around her waist, where she was content to let them be for at least a while longer.

“Yeah, well, it wasn’t, it’s not a crush anymore.” Ladybug exhaled. “I still like you though. I just wasn’t sure if you felt the same way about me or not.”  
Chat Noir’s ears twitched outward slightly. “I’ve always liked you. What gave you the idea that I didn’t?”

“There was just a lot going on, and a lot that changed.” Ladybug tugged at one of her pigtails reflexively.

“And I never stopped liking you.”

The warm feeling that flooded through Ladybug’s system, combined with the jittery, elated shock, gave her the courage she needed for what she did next.

“Ah, I can think of one more change that would be an improvement.” She couldn’t stop smiling as she reached for his hand and intertwined their fingers. She looked down at her feet and then up again, bashfully. He was blinking through his thick eyelashes back at her, like he couldn’t believe it was truly happening.  
“How about a real date Friday, Kitty?” She spoke into his ear like she was whispering a secret. “Whatever you want, Princess.”

**\--**

 

After the adrenaline wore off and Chat Noir had dropped her off at her balcony with another kiss goodbye, Ladybug de-transformed and ran inside to scream into her pillow. She looked up at Tikki from her bed after turning around and flopping over.

“Congratulations, Marinette,” Tikki said sweetly.

“I can’t believe my life. I’m the luckiest girl in the world. Tikki, I think my life would have been entirely different if I hadn’t met you.” Marinette sat up with a start. “I have to tell Alya.”

She called her best friend, who picked up after two minutes.

Alya spoke first. “Sorry, I was refereeing a fight. And the saga of who gets to split the last piece of cake continues between the three youngest. What’s up?”

“I kissed Adrien.” Simply saying the words out loud made her head spin. “Technically I kissed Chat while I was Ladybug. Either way, it happened, and I think we’re going on a date on Friday.”

Marinette held the phone some ways away from her ear as Alya shrieked. “That took forever, but couldn’t you guys have taken an extra week?”

“Pardon?”

Alya sighed. “Nothing. Jukela might have been running a betting pool. I think Nino wins.”

“PARDON?”

“Pshft, not important. Tell. Me. Everything.”

Marinette sat cross-legged on her bed, and recalled the night’s events to Alya. She shortened the conversation between Ladybug and Chat to “I was confiding to him about the possibility of applying to design school,” but quoted the words they said right before and after the kiss verbatim.

Marinette heard Alya click her tongue against the roof of her mouth through the phone. “Giiirl. Good job. Hey, have you told your parents yet? I only ask because you’ve got such a good relationship with them.”

“Eh.”

Marinette’s lack of response was enough for Alya. “Do it sooner rather than later, or they’ll be miffed, and you’ll get a lecture about how they wish they didn’t have to hear the info prodded out of you by one of your little siblings for the first time over dinner.”

“Shoot.”

“No, I’m sure they’ll be cool with it. They love Adrien. They were probably just wondering when it would happen, like the rest of us.”

“It’s not that. I think I’ll tell my parents at breakfast tomorrow. They’re asleep now.” Marinette switched the phone from one ear to the other. “I meant shoot like Adrien is going to eventually need to tell his father, and knowing he’s Gabriel Agreste, it better be sooner rather than later.”

Alya responded after a pause. “Oh. Well, crap.”

“Not helping.”

“He was so mean to Nino that one time he went over, and Nino was just a friend,” Alya pointed out. “Imagine having to get introduced as his girlfriend.”

“Yeah, don’t have to imagine.”

“Whatever, girl, It’ll be fine.” Marinette heard Alya shuffling around her room from the other side of the phone. “I have to go to sleep,” Alya added. “Talk to you later.”

It was getting somewhat late, Marinette realized. She started texting Adrien anyway.

 

**[Marinette Dupain-Cheng @ 00h01]**

**I spent some time screaming into my pillow.**

**[Adrien Agreste @ 00h05]**

**I’m beginning to sense a recurring theme. The one shaped like a cat? You must really like that pillow.**

**[Marinette Dupain-Cheng @ 00h07]**

**Shut up.**

**[Marinette Dupain-Cheng @ 00h08]**

**I told Alya. Apparently Nino won the betting pool for when we would get together. Did you know there was betting pool?**

**[Adrien Agreste @ 00h09]**

**Um, Nino might have mentioned it.**

**[Marinette Dupain-Cheng @ 00h09]**

**???!!**

**[Adrien Agreste @ 00h10]**

**I didn’t put any money down. And, wouldn’t it have been a weird thing to find out from me? It seemed kind of forward...**

**[Marinette Dupain-Cheng @ 00h11]**

**Alright, I concede. Good night.**

 

The texts continued the next morning.

 

**[Marinette Dupain-Cheng @ 07h23]**

**I told my parents at breakfast that we’re dating now. They are delighted. They want you to come over for Sunday lunch, but you know you were kind of already invited, so?**

Sometime in April, Adrien had let it slip that he usually ate alone at his house while in the presence of her parents. Sabine had very persistently invited him to dinner every day. Both of her parents regarded good food as sacred, and good company, even more so. The invite was toned down to just Sundays, and lunch instead of dinner when Sabine sensed Adrien’s hesitation.

**[Adrien Agreste @ 07h24]**

**Yeah, I’ll be there. I’m nervous, though.**

**[Marinette Dupain-Cheng @ 07h24]**

**They really like you, you know that.**

**Um, what are you going to do about your father?**

 

Marinette had initially typed “dad,” but the word felt too familiar, too friendly. Adrien certainly didn’t address Gabriel so casually, ever.

 

**[Adrien Agreste @ 07h27]**

**What, that he might be the supervillain we’re dealing with. Didn’t we talk about it? Let sleeping dogs lie because the attacks are easy enough to keep under control, until we can come up with a better game plan?**

**[Marinette Dupain-Cheng @ 07h28]**

**No, I meant about us. Telling your dad about us.**

 

**[Adrien Agreste @ 07h30]**

**Uhhhh, well, he is out of the country at present. I’ll request a meeting with him at his earliest convenience and see what happens. It will probably be next week. It really is something he should find out from me, which I should say in person. If I tell Nathalie I have important news she’ll bump up the meeting.**

 

Marinette could imagine Adrien saying those exact words and getting a terse response. Nathalie was strict, but not cruel, and would do her best to fulfill Adrien’s request.

Marinette changed her relationship status on Facebook but did not specify who she was “in a relationship” with. Her account was set to private, and Adrien didn’t have a Facebook page.

They had Chinese food for Sunday lunch, and Papa clapped Adrien on the back. Sabine came out after setting the table and kissed both of Adrien’s cheeks. Sabine must have whispered something really embarrassing to him because his face was tomato red and he was acting shy around her again, until they began passing around the bread basket. There was no acting tense over steaming platters of fried rice, sautéed vegetables, and spicy chicken. The two other sides were spinach and baked salmon with soy paste.

Adrien was using the pale green chopsticks Sabine had designated for him. He came over so often he had his own mug (black, with a simple cat drawing on it in white that Marinette had picked out herself) and utensils, as well as a toothbrush stored in the cabinet from the one time he had to stay overnight to finish a project. He had used it twice since. When did that happen? How was he practically living in her house already? Her parents probably wanted to adopt him.

Marinette elbowed him after she saw how stiff his shoulders were and how silent he was.

“Just act natural,” she hissed. “Relax.”

“Help yourself to more rice, Adrien,” Sabine said. “I know you can eat more than that.”

“Uh, I will, thank you,” Adrien said as he picked up the serving spoon.

By the time dessert came out Adrien was laughing at Tom’s bad jokes like it was his fifteenth time eating there instead of his first. They didn’t keep count, but it was probably closer to the fifteenth time in actuality. Marinette was at ease when they got to the main event of the afternoon, which was besting him at Halo. Marinette walked him to the car when it was time for him to go.

“See you later,” he winked, reminding her that they had patrol that night. Marinette turned to walk back into her house as he got into his car.

She turned to her parents, who were lounging in the living room where the console still sat. “Well?” Marinette asked as she bent down to put the ps4 back in its box.

“You know we think he’s wonderful,” Tom said. “I wish you both the best.”

“You hang on to him, okay?” Sabine added. “Protect him.”

Marinette knew her mother was thinking of Adrien’s family. “I will.”

She hoped her meeting with Gabriel would go as smoothly. 

**\--**

 

Adrien never considered himself lucky or unlucky, but the lunch with Marinette’s parents couldn’t have gone better. Tom had been very nice, even during the obligatory ‘if you hurt her, I’m hunting you down’ speech, which was lighthearted. Sabine had said to him during her greeting: “Congratulations. Treat her well. If you become our son-in-law, we won’t have to adopt you.”

Things were fine. Wasn’t this stage what they called the honeymoon period? The euphoria hadn’t quite worn off yet, but as he stepped out of the limo and into his house, he became more aware of the possibility of someone who could send things crashing down. Lydie, one of the maids, greeted him at the door, and he asked where he could find Nathalie, because he had long stopped expecting to find his father without going through her first.

“Her office. I’ll tell her to expect you,” Lydie said, and rushed off. Adrien dropped off his bag in his room and went to Nathalie’s office. Lydie was outside.

“She says she can see you now.”

“Hey Nathalie,” Adrien said as he entered the office and shut the door behind him. “Where’s my father right now? I’m just curious.”  
Nathalie tapped away at her tablet for a few seconds. Adrien assumed she was pulling up the schedule.

“Mr. Agreste has business in Milan at the moment.”

“Will he return home at any point soon?”

“He is scheduled for a flight back Friday morning. As it stands, he will remain in Paris for two weeks.”

“Can I have a meeting with him? As soon as possible?”

Nathalie peered up at him curiously.

“Please? It’s really important. In-person news.”

Adrien could not remember the last time he had made such a request. Usually, he informed Father of events that were happening around him, or walked into his office when he was home, only to be turned away. This scenario was different. It was serious. He was approaching it in a way his father would respond: making it like business.

“He can see you on Friday afternoon. Would you prefer an hour or half an hour?”  
Adrien thought back. When had he last been in a room with his father for anywhere close to an hour for something that wasn’t a social event? He honestly couldn’t remember.

“Half an hour.” He chose the shorter time because the meeting would go well, or it would go very badly, but either way, Adrien had a feeling the conversation would be a short one.

“3PM, three-thirty, or four?”

“3PM.” Adrien didn’t want to drag it out for any longer than he had to, and he remembered Alix inviting “their gang” (him, Marinette, Alya, Nino, Kim, Nathaniel, Jukela, and Rose) to a movie night that day. Alix had a home theater in the second basement of her townhouse that seated ten. Alix had yet to let them know the time, but Adrien figured the earlier the better. Friday, 3PM, was less than five days away.

Marinette called him, instead of just texting, on the morning of the day of reckoning. “Did you just get out of tutoring?”

“I did,” Adrien answered. “I have reportedly gotten ahead in physics and pre-calc, up until whatever we are learning in the curriculum in November.”

“Your dad in yet?”

“I think he just got to the airport, and he might have a lunch meeting somewhere else, but he’ll be home in time.”

“I’m so nervous! Are you sure you don’t want me to show up at your place?”

“It would be better if it were just me,” Adrien said. They talked until Marinette had to go start her shift at the bakery.

Adrien went down to the kitchens for lunch, where he ate with two of the maids and the Gorilla.

Paulette was teasing the Gorilla about how picky he was about the beans in his salad when she turned to Adrien. “Master Adrien, word on the street is that you’ve got a girlfriend. Is that what you’re telling your father about today?”

Adrien insisted he be called by just his first name, and cringed at the formality, but (this maid), fought back when he had first brought it up, she pointed out that “Master Agreste” would be unpleasant if she ever slipped up in front of him, so Adrien was left with being addressed “properly” by the servants.

“How did you know?” Adrien asked, horrorstruck. “It was supposed to be a secret.”

The other maid, Lydie, who was shyer and had a softer voice, patted his shoulder reassuringly.

“I’m sure your father and Ms. Nathalie are too wrapped up in their own business to have noticed. We just pick up on a lot of things. You have always known that fact.”

Lydie and Paulette had been employed here longer than Nathalie. They had been particularly close to Adrien’s mother. When he was younger, before he had gone to school, Adrien had often taken his meals with them (and his mom, when she was still alive).

Paulette spoke. “Is it the baker’s daughter? The one Gorilla drives you to and from constantly? What is her name? Marie?”

“Marinette, Adrien said as he looked at Gorilla, who was impervious to Adrien’s look of betrayal.

“I didn’t say anything,” the Gorilla grunted. “Except that if I were getting a call from you late, I was probably going to pick you up from Marinette’s place.”

“She seems very nice,” Paulette said. “And so pretty. Most importantly, that one time her family sent those treats to Gorilla to share with the staff, I remember the macarons and tatin cake were divine.”

“I knew there was something in it for you,” Adrien joked.

“Oh hush, young master. I do your laundry.”

“I hope father will be okay with it,” Adrien said. The maids were good to open up to. Better than anyone else about the particular topic because they understood what it was like to have to deal with Gabriel constantly.

“Oh sweetie,” Paulette lamented. “Forbidden love is so romantic!”

Lydie took a long swallow of tea. “I probably shouldn’t be telling you this, and you may be too young to remember, but your father was at his best when he was with your mother,” Lydie said in a low, solemn voice. “Master Agreste is strict—and a lot of other things I shouldn’t say on the clock—but he’s surprisingly malleable when it comes to matters of the heart. You just have to show him you want it enough. Show him how much you care.”

Adrien smiled. “Why do I feel like I suddenly have three parents?”

“I take offense, Master Adrien,” Paulette said. “I am not nearly old enough to be your parent.” She put another helping of ravioli on his plate.

“Okay, yeesh,” Adrien conceded.

Plagg’s response to his getting together with Marinette, the night of the kiss, had been to say, “Took you long enough. Hey, pay attention. Don’t start daydreaming and forget about my cheese. Dairy products are way more important than your love life.” The black kwami’s words before Adrien was to enter Gabriel’s office, however, surprised him.

“Stand firm for once,” Plagg said. You’re not asking permission; you’re stating a fact. You’ve grown a backbone as Chat. You should be able to act like it as Adrien.”

“Wow Plagg, that was almost a complement.”

Plagg scoffed. “Just calling it like I see it, kid.”

Adrien stepped into Gabriel’s office when he was called, at 3PM on-the-dot.

“Hello father. I trust your trip went well?”

“Business as usual,” Gabriel said. He looked it too, dressed in an off-white three-piece suit and red tie. Although he had a desktop computer on his desk, he was sketching something old-school, with a pencil and an oversized sketchpad. “Why did you request this meeting? Nathalie said it was terribly important news.”

_You’ve grown a backbone as Chat. You should be able to act like it as Adrien.  
_

Adrien squared his shoulders and planted his feet, like a soldier in formation. “I wished to inform you in-person that I now have a girlfriend. As of last week.”

The pencil Gabriel was holding froze midair. “I see. May I ask who the person is?”

Adrien swallowed. “Marinette Dupain-Cheng.” Saying her name in this context made his lips quirk up reflexively. _Marinette is my girlfriend. It’s for real. I’m not just dreaming._ “You know her. She’s one of my classmates. She won you hat design contest?”

Gabriel’s eyes sparked briefly. “Yes, she had talent, I remember.” He peered at Adrien over his spectacles after setting down his pencil. “You scheduled a meeting just to tell me you had a girlfriend?”

Adrien ignored the cold tone and the minor sensation of being sucker-punched. “I thought you deserved to know,” he answered simply. “I thought you deserved to hear it from me directly. Forgive me if I was mistaken.”

Gabriel picked up his pencil again and tapped it against the pad of paper. “What would you do if I said I disapproved? If I said that a girlfriend would be a distraction?” The question was posed with no heat, but as if Gabriel was asking Adrien which type of meat he preferred for the entrée.

Adrien clenched his fist, although his father couldn’t see it because he was holding his hands behind his back. “We’re dating, whether you approve or not.” Adrien exhaled and kept his tone level. “If her being a distraction is the only thing you are worried about, there should be no issue, Honestly, I spend so much time with her already that it wouldn’t change my schedule very much.”

“The Gorilla has told me you frequent that one house in particular.” Gabriel paused to close his sketchbook and set his pencil down. He clasped his hands together, resting them on the desk, and looked directly at Adrien. “Whatever suits your fancy. I trust you to simply be responsible and not disgrace the Agreste name.”

Adrien blushed when he realized the implications of Gabriel’s words. Really? This was the way he was going to get that particular conversation with his father?

“We haven’t… not even close… I-I understand, Father. Of course.” Once he recovered from the awkwardness and his tongue could form words again Adrien asked about the issue that was still boggling his mind. “Don’t you want to meet her?”

“Whatever for?” Gabriel sounded genuinely perplexed. Adrien was unsure if it made the situation better or worse. “I already know who she is. I’d even say she’s the only other one of your classmates I remember aside from Mayor Bourgeois’ daughter and that boy in the baseball cap.”

Adrien bit back the urge to state their names. Never mind that he hadn’t talked to Chloé in ages. She had still been a playmate for years. And he talked to Nino most often after Marinette. Nino, who deserved to be known for a lot more than wearing a baseball cap. Nino, who his father couldn’t seem for forget, but didn’t bother to remember. It was a fight for another day. Now, Marinette was his priority. “But now, she’s my girlfriend?”

Gabriel raised an eyebrow at him, “Yes, and that’s your business. Just see that she doesn’t get in the way of your grades or job.”

_It could have gone worse_ , Adrien reminded himself. “Yes, Father.”

“If that is all, you may go.” Gabriel nodded towards the door.

Adrien responded the way that was expected of him. “Yes, Father. Enjoy your time back in Paris.”

As Adrien exited the room he felt… he didn’t know how to feel. When Lydie, who was passing by, looked at him curiously, he merely said. “Well, he didn’t forbid it.”

\--

 

“He didn’t forbid it,” Adrien explained to Marinette in her room, where they had planned to meet right before heading over to Alix’s. He was sitting on the couch while Marinette was at her desk, changing the plain hair ties in her pigtails to ones with plastic flowers.

“Oh. Okay. That’s good news right?” Marinette glanced at him through the mirror and then turned around. “Why do you look like he forbade it?”

“Father. He didn’t have any reaction at all.” Adrien stared at the silver ring on his finger, as if looking at his own reflection through it would give him all the answers. “He asked me what I would do if he explicitly told me I couldn’t see you, and I told him I was set on our relationship.” Marinette had spun her chair around to face Adrien as he talked. “I was ready to fight for it. I was. Then father goes and tells me I could do whatever I please.”

“And?”

“And, that’s it. I asked if he wanted to meet you, and he said he couldn’t see the reason why he had to.” Adrien twisted his ring absently. “Father said he already knew who you were, and that as long as I kept up with my schedule and got good grades and was responsible, he didn’t care. I guess it’s freedom, in a way. It’s better than the alternative, but why does it feel like a punishment? Like nothing I do will be enough for him to ever care, unless I do something wrong?”

Adrien’s fingers were wrought together when Marinette approached. Adrien let her gently pry his hands apart. She tugged at them, and Adrien took the motion as a cue to stand up. Marinette stood on her tip-toes. He rested his head on her shoulder.

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” Marinette said firmly. “We’ll take our blessings where we can get them. Your father will come around. He’ll meet with me in person eventually.” She let go of his hands and headed to the door. “First, we have crowd to please and questions to answer. How will we tell them we got together if we’re leaving out the Ladybug and Chat Noir parts?” 

\--

 

Adrien had an early breakfast on the first day of _première_ so he could be dropped off at Marinette’s place. He spent the morning there laughing with Sabine over how Marinette was running late already. She was getting a ride in Adrien’s limo, which meant she wouldn’t be late to school, but, by the looks of it, she might have to eat breakfast on the ride there.

To be fair, they’d spent a huge chunk of the previous night dealing with the latest akuma attack. Marinette flew down the stairs with her hair in a French braid that ran along the crown of her head that turned into a low side-bun. She was carrying her school bag, as well as a brown paper bag. She kissed Sabine and Tom goodbye quickly, as Sabine handed her two small cloth tote bags with an exasperated expression. One bag had a post-it on it with ‘breakfast’ scrawled on it in dainty script. Sabine also gave Adrien a muffin, saying it was for the Gorilla.

The Gorilla looked taken aback when the muffin was presented to him.

“Please take it,” Marinette said. “It’s fresh out of the oven. A thank you, for always picking me up.”

“You are very welcome, Marinette,” the Gorilla said as he accepted it. In his fleshy palm it looked bite-sized. Marinette knew if she mentioned that detail to her mother, Sabine would prepare a dozen muffins for him tomorrow, so she kept silent.

Marinette opened the breakfast bag once they were buckled into the limo. Inside was an omelet, two croissants, and two cups of coffee set in cardboard holders. She gave a coffee and a croissant to Adrien. “You’ve known my mother for long enough not to argue.”

“Oh, chocolate!” Adrien accepted the food. He inhaled its scent before he took a bite out of the croissant. They speculated about their schedules, hoping they would have at least one class together as they ate. Adrien brought out a cookie for Tikki (and cheese for Plagg, of course) as Marinette finished her breakfast. Their kwami snuck back into their school bags as they arrived. Marinette sprung out of the limo first, having spotted Alya talking to Rose, Alix, and Nathaniel near the front gates. She turned back and extended a hand out to Adrien, who took it, and they walked with their fingers intertwined.

Marinette froze when she was a few steps away from her friends.

“What is it?” Adrien leaned in to whisper to her.

“I just realized people are staring,” Marinette said as she started walking again.

Adrien’s chuckle was throaty and low. “Oh yeah, the rest of the school wouldn’t have known we’ve gotten together.”

“Well they sure know now,” Alix said with a wicked grin and a pop of her bubblegum. For the new school year, her hair was freshly dyed a rosy pink.

Marinette ignored her blush and kissed everyone’s cheeks. She turned to Alya, and handed her the brown paper bag she had been carrying. “I finished the vest I was talking about for you,” she said.

Alya squealed. “I’ll look at it during lunch. Let’s go to homeroom and find out our schedules.” Alya wove her arm through Marinette’s and turned back as they started for class. Alya stuck her tongue out at Adrien, as if to say “Marinette’s mine now” and Marinette looked back at him with a “what-can-you-do” expression. Adrien took it in good humor, and continued chatting with Nathaniel.

People stared and whispered and gossiped, but not specifically about her. She wasn’t oblivious to the more-than-usual use of her name in conjunction with Adrien’s, but she kept her eyes forward and her shoulders back and let them talk and speculate, their comments sliding off her skin like quicksilver. The odd cluster or schoolmate would come up to her and ask or comment.

“Is it true that you and Adrien Agreste are dating now?”

“We saw you come to school together.”

“You two were holding hands.”

“You’re really cute together!”

Marinette answered truthfully to those people who did her the courtesy of asking directly instead of speculating. There were a few odd, wayward, rumors Marinette rolled her eyes at, but largely, she just said that yes, she and Adrien were dating. He was her boyfriend. She was his girlfriend. They had gotten together over the summer.

(No, he did not have a Spanish villa where they had taken a holiday. She hadn’t partied in Ibiza, she wasn’t even old enough to be there. She did not know what kind of shampoo Adrien used, and why did that first year even want to know?)

Marinette was relieved to be in most of the same classes as Alya. She had French Literature and History with Adrien and Nino as well. In Italian class no one from her _collège_ was there. The stares and whispers were harsher where she was a stranger.

Of her old classmates, she also had a lot of classes with Chloé, as they had chosen the same economics track. Marinette wasn’t sure why Chloé was there, but Marinette had decided based on the fact that she could learn the creative side on her own, and more intensely when (if) she got into design school, it would be good to know the business. She focused on her work and brushed off Chloé glaring daggers at her in every class they were in together.

Literature was third period, and lunch wasn’t until after fifth, so it had been two periods since she had last seen Adrien when she met up with him in the courtyard. They would be joining the rest of the group in a few minutes. She’d had sociology fourth period, and came out of intro to economics when she met Adrien again. “How was class?” She asked him.

“Fine.” Adrien replied. “People seemed really interested in talking to me about you.”

“Hmm, is that so?” Marinette turned her head playfully and grabbed his hand. She rose on her tip-toes, and closed her eyes as their lips met for a brief, sweet second. Now people wouldn’t have to wonder.

Adrien’s grin was bright and Chat-like. “I’ll never get tired of that.”

They stood there for a few more seconds before Marinette became aware of the snickering nearby. She turned sharply toward the noise, but irritation quickly turned into wary curiosity.

It was a group of catty girls, Chloé among them. Her hair was pulled tight in a ponytail, and her makeup was done with an abundance of glitter. Chloé was standing with the girls, but her stance was rigid, and her expression, generally unpleasant, had a lot of other emotions Marinette couldn’t quite place. Marinette hadn’t talked or thought of her in months, but there was still the irksome feeling that rose when she thought of her old schoolyard bully. Years of annoyance-turned-resentment didn’t go away so easily.

Adrien waved. “Hey Chlo,” he said casually, without a second thought. Marinette watched as Chloé’s face clouded over and the snickering intensified. One of the girls (Ava, Marinette thought, might have been her name. They’d been in gym together last year) said something she and Adrien were too far away to hear. Chloé looked over at them, turned a 360, and walked away.

Marinette was used to Chloé making dramatic entrances and exits, and it certainly wasn’t the first time that she had watched the mayor’s daughter storm off in a huff. What surprised her the most was how Sabrina, with her red hair in a fresh bob, swallowed up in the group of girls, didn’t make a single move to join her.

Marinette got accustomed to her new routine easily. She rode in the car with Adrien to school and went to class. The akuma attacks were handled as they occurred, and patrols became more manageable because Adrien had the genius idea to work out a schedule between the three of them. The _première_ year was tough because of the school work. With heavier readings and more complicated math problems, Marinette found less and less time to sew. Regardless, she was getting through the school year as usual, aside from Hawkmoth’s attacks. Master Fu had called a meeting with the 3 of them to go over how their powers were developing, and help them master their abilities.

Ladybug, Chat, and Celeste ended up practicing a lot in Master Fu’s apartment in the third week of September, with explicit instructions to keep the fine china and plants intact. They were used to fighting in the open, urban landscape. Fighting in such a closed space was particularly difficult for Ladybug and Celeste, since their first instincts were to get out of the tiny room and create space, which Master Fu forbade.

The three miraculous users split up after the training session, as Nino’s house was in the opposite direction of Marinette’s. Adrien and Marinette were taking the train, because everyone in Adrien’s household thought he was at Marinette’s house, except his father, who probably would not even know he was gone. Two stops from her house Adrien asked, out of the blue, “Have you spoken to Chloé recently?”

Marinette’s laugh was scathing. “Chloé Bourgeois? Why in the world would I talk to her?”

Adrien sighed, disregarding Marinette’s obvious disdain. “I think she’s going through something rough.” He showed her an article on his phone. It was from some dirty rag of a tabloid site that, usually, neither of them paid any attention to.

It showed a trashed blonde in too-tight clothes exiting a sketchy looking club and getting into a nondescript black car. Marinette immediately noticed that the girl looked frail and frightfully young, and, a couple seconds later, realized that it was Chloé. The timestamp showed that the picture had been published the day before with a flea-sized article. “When did this happen? The incident, not the article.”

“I got a concerned call from her father yesterday. He said that Chlo shut herself in her room, and wouldn’t talk to anyone,” Adrien explained in a low whisper. “The mayor said he wasn’t prepared to deal with teenaged girls. Mayor Bourgeois was worried, but he’s like my father in that he’s never the type to get to know his child’s friends. Because he knows my family, he got in contact with me through Nathalie. Mayor Bourgeois asked me to try and talk to her, to figure out what was going on. I tried calling, and then visiting, Chloé yesterday, but she completely shut me out. She wouldn’t talk to me. So I figured I asked if you noticed anything off with her. You are in more classes with her than I am.”

Marinette whispered back tersely. “Yes I am, and I actively ignore her as much as possible.”

Adrien winced. “There is a reason why I didn’t tell you I when to see her yesterday.”

“That’s why Nino mentioned you were a little late for patrol.” Marinette said it like a simple realization, and not an accusation.

Adrien nodded. “I don’t know what’s up with her, but I wanted to check that she was okay. She wouldn’t see me. She refused to talk to me. She’s never done that before. We haven’t talked in months, but that’s not so different from how we usually are. She refused to let me up into her suite and blocked my calls. Also, texts.”

“Chloé not texting is a serious problem,” Marinette muttered.

Adrien gave her a pointed look and showed her his phone after he opened it to his texts with Chloé. The text before yesterday’s bunch was from January. Chloé declared she would “defs see you at the yacht party xoxo” to which Adrien responded “Yes, see you there.” The ones from yesterday were a little more substantial.

  
**[Adrien Agreste @ 17h28]**

**Chlo, your dad called me. He’s really worried. what happened? I didn’t read the article. I just saw the pictures. I won’t believe anything unless I heard it directly from you anyway.**

**[Chloé Bourgeois @ 17h34]  
I don’t want to talk to you right now, Adrien. I don’t want to talk to anybody.**

**[Adrien Agreste @ 17h34]  
Please Chlo, I’m worried.**

**[Chloé Bourgeois @ 17h35]  
No you’re not.**

**[Adrien Agreste @ 17h36]  
Of course I am.**

**[Chloé Bourgeois @ 17h37]  
I don’t want to talk to you.**

  
“I didn’t know what to say after, so I just left it at that.” Adrien sighed. “Chlo is usually the first to complain about anything, whether you want to listen or not.”

Marinette chuckled at the statement, although she admitted it was a little cruel. She wanted to ask why Adrien cared so much, but that question wasn’t fair to him. Of course he cared. Adrien saw the best in everyone, even if they didn’t deserve it. Plus, he had known her for ages. Long enough to wish someone good health and the like on some level, but between then, the sentiment ran deeper.

“She hasn’t been in school for the last few days,” Marinette noted.

“I noticed.”

The train stopped at a station. They were two stops from her house. “I didn’t think too much of it, but I really know less than you. You really have no idea why?”  
Adrien shook his head.

“Let’s ask Alya. She keeps tabs on everybody,” Marinette suggested. “If she doesn’t know, she sure has ways of finding out.”

“What an unexpected request,” Alya remarked at school the next morning. Chloé was still absent, though Sabrina, who had always looked lost when Chloé was absent in _lycée_ , was chattering along with the usual group of girls. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary.

“It’s more for Adrien’s sake than mine,” Marinette explained. “I understand if you don’t want to do it. I know Chloé was never the nicest to you.”

“Please, digging into this dirt is going to be fun,” Alya declared. “It’s what I live for, especially since you three ruined my favorite extracurricular activity.”

Nino, who was standing with the pair of them in the courtyard, chimed in. “I’d like to think we replaced it with something more fun.”

Alya poked Nino’s shoulder. “Not that I don’t love being you lot’s unofficial publicist, but I’m going to do some real investigative work now.”

Alya did not disappoint. She sat down on the bench at lunch, and Marinette, Adrien, and Nino gathered around her. “The tabloids blew it out of proportion, but Chloé really did get into major trouble sneaking into a club, being underage,” Alya started in a low voice as to not be overheard. “She got caught, threw a fit, and the paparazzi caught wind of the mayor’s daughter acting like an out-of-control party animal. Her new friends aren’t being very nice about it. They’re basically ‘dethroning’  her. So there is that.” Alya pushed her glasses further up the bridge of her nose.  “I also heard something else from a very reliable source in the thick of it.

“Apparently, Chloé spent so much time bragging to her new friends about being close to Adrien,” Alya continued, giving Adrien a sympathetic look. “It’s how she really got an ‘in’ with them in the first place, not by being the mayor’s daughter. She made it seem like she and Adrien were destined for each other, that it was only a matter of time. But then, well…” Alya gestured to the fact that Marinette was wearing Adrien’s jacket over her T-shirt and they were holding hands. “I think they very severely excluded her from the group because of it, but that was at the very beginning of school. It’s been three weeks now.”

“Where did you get this information?” Adrien wondered.

“And what did you have to do for it?” Marinette added.

Alya put her hands on her hips. “All my sources are confidential, and you don’t want to know my methods.”

Marinette raised an eyebrow, but smiled slightly. “Okay, forget I asked.”

Now they had a small part of some possible version of the story. However, the info piled like bricks in front of them. They didn’t know how to start moving, and where exactly to move it.

Two days later, Adrien sent Marinette a link to a new article. It was from _Le Parisien,_ tucked into a corner nowhere near the front page, but there for all to see. Chloé was shown to have caused trouble again. It involved alcohol and a broken stiletto heel. There was a lot of speculation about how much of a troubled teen she was, and the mayor’s competency as a politician was also being called into question. ( _How can we trust someone who has done such a terrible job with his child with an entire city?_ The writer speculated.)

Adrien approached her after a rather eventful day of patrol Friday night. They had gone back to her room, and Chat Noir had de-transformed first. There had been an akuma attack, but it had been swiftly taken care of once the pair of them, and Celeste, had arrived at the scene. Perhaps it was the fact that they’d just defeated a monster, possibly created by Adrien’s own father, which got Marinette, still transformed into Ladybug, to listen.

“I’m going to ask you about Chloé again,” Adrien said as he picked his bag off from the floor. They had been studying together for the upcoming history project before the akuma attacked.

Ladybug de-transformed into Marinette and paused, but did not shut Adrien down immediately, so he took it as a cue to continue.

“Please Marinette. Go talk to her. I know you two were never friends—”

“That’s putting it mildly.”

“But she’s in trouble, and she could really use someone, anyone to talk to. And she clearly doesn’t want to talk to me.”

“Adrien—”

“Talk to her. Try to get along.” Adrien put his books in his bag. The akuma attack had used up the majority of their study time, and the clock told Marinette that the Gorilla was coming to pick Adrien up in five minutes. Marinette stood in the middle of the first level of her room, helpless as Adrien’s pleading eyes were on her. “If you won’t do it for her, do it for me. She won’t talk to me, but you’re you, and I’ve never seen Chloé react more strongly to any other person.”

Marinette read between the lines to what he was saying. They were childhood friends, and Adrien had such a big heart. It wasn’t something he’d let go of easily. Chloé brought out the worst in her, reminding her of all her insecurities that she was actively trying to combat. To actively seek out someone like that and help her?

Marinette remembered a conversation she had with Tikki earlier that week, when Marinette had told her kwami a largely unfiltered account of her feelings about the Chloé situation.

“Maybe it’s the kind of host I gravitate towards,” Tikki had mused. “All the ladybugs I’ve had, the successful ones anyway, have had the same sort of hope in them. Their hope is an ember, and their whole personality burns bright. They feel to extremes, and that includes the grudges they hold. Anger is one of the worst emotions to cling on to. It will eat you up if you don’t learn to release it. Try to let some of it go.”

Tikki was wise, and Marinette was trying not to be a coward. She was trying to live up to the black and red mantle now intertwined with her fate.

Marinette put a hand on Adrien’s shoulder in order to rise on her toes so she could kiss his cheek. “I’ll do it for you,” she said sincerely.

“Tomorrow?”

Marinette gritted her teeth. “Fine.”

Adrien cast her a relieved, grateful look as he followed her downstairs.

\--

  
It was Saturday afternoon, around dusk, when Adrien texted Chloé, because he wasn’t sure she would pick up.

**[Adrien Agreste @ 19h36]  
I’m sending Marinette over to your place now, and if you don’t let her into your room, I can call you dad and make sure she gets let up. He’ll listen to me now if I tell him it’s for your own good.**

The phone rang in seconds, with the caller ID showing the name of the person who had been ignoring him for a week. Adrien blinked, not quite believing what he was seeing.

“Oh, answer it before she hangs up,” Marinette said. They were in Adrien’s house for once, both standing over his desk like they were deliberating a business deal. Marinette had brought a bag full of fresh products from the bakery that neither of them had touched.

Adrien set the phone on the desk and put it on speaker because he had an inkling that whatever he was about to hear, he didn’t want to listen too close to his ear.

The other end of the phone line crackled to life. “What in the WORLD would make you believe I would want to talk to Marinette Dupain-Cheng of all people?”

Adrien raked his hand through his hair. “Please Chlo, trust me. You two are more alike than either of you would like to admit.”

Marinette scoffed at the statement, giving him a dirty look, which he returned with a side glance and a shy smile.

“Which I meant as a compliment, mostly,” Adrien added hastily. “Anyway, it’s not like you have many options right now.”

The words slipped out before he could help it. Adrien felt the guilt rise before the sound of a hitch and a sharp breath reverberated on speaker phone made the guilt sink like lead.

“Please, when Marinette shows up at the hotel, let her into your room. Do it for me.”

There was a pause, then the sound of some shuffling. “Fine, whatever,” Chloé spat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought the Christmas special was super cute. I'm also excited to announce that I will be able to update this story weekly for a while. Excuse me while I use writing this fic to distract myself from thinking about Rogue One.
> 
> EDIT: [A link to this chapter was also posted on tumblr, with un-related fanart, if you want to check it out/ like/ reblog it.](http://keeperofarestlessheart.tumblr.com/post/155209965142/happy-new-year-chapter-8-of-finding-volpina-is#notes)


	9. Copenhagen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Past: Drama.
> 
> Present: New schools, new friends, and new situations.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year everyone!

 

**Two Years Ago**

Before she could get a word in, Marinette was ushered in by the doorman and greeted immediately by the front desk manager when she showed up at _Le Grande._ He must have recognized her as one of Chloé’s old classmates from hotel day.

“Ms. Dupain-Cheng.” He nodded his head at her. “Ms. Bourgeois is expecting you. Please take this one-time access key card.”

Marinette went up the elevator and through the finely carpeted halls until she arrived at Chloé’s suite. She knocked, and when there was no answer, she used the key. Marinette wasn’t sure what she expected to find—Chloé preening on the couch or perhaps staring angrily at her as she let herself in—but it wasn’t emptiness. The layout of the suite was as

Marinette remembered. Most of the rooms were spotless, likely attributed to the cleaning service. The doors to the outside bathroom and second longue were wide open, but the bedroom door was ajar.

“Chloé?” Marinette called. She peaked into the bedroom but found no sign of its owner. There were a couple pairs of shoes and some clothes flung messily across the floor, along with some handbags, including a glittery gold clutch. Marinette backed out of her approach into the bedroom and scanned the other areas. Well, her-royal-pain-in-the-ass had promised Adrien to let Marinette into her suite, but nothing more. The en-suite bathroom door was firmly shut. Marinette walked towards it and spoke.

“Look, I’m not going to pretend I like you…” _Great start Marinette. You sure know how to win people over._ Marinette felt movement from her little purse and opened it to hush Tikki when her eyes widened in even more horror. Tikki was there, but so was Plagg, who shot out and said something vague about cheese in the kitchens. And Marinette had thought her bag feeling heavier than usual had been all nerves.

Tikki shot Marinette a look that seemed to convey she would try to keep the cat kwami in line, and for her not to mind them. “I heard from Alya who did some digging, that you were abandoned by your friends for the crap with the paparazzi, and I think that what happened to you sucks,” Marinette said in a rush as she watched Plagg circle the room like a vulture waiting for a fresh kill. She couldn’t chase him. It would be too suspicious. What if Chloé came out when Marinette tripped over a lamp or something. What if she wasn’t in the bathroom at all, and Marinette was just talking to a door? “I’m here for Adrien’s sake. But I brought macarons and cupcakes and fruit tarts from the bakery. They’re fresh, even if they might be low class for your standards.”

There was the sounds of footsteps from inside the bathroom. “Everything that happened to me was all your fault,” Chloé whined.

Marinette resisted the urge to pound on the door. “How is it my fault you made lousy friends and poor life choices?”

“You TOOK ADRIEN from me! He was mine. He was always mine…”

Marinette gritted her teeth and spoke over Chloé’s insipid whimpering. “Adrien is his own person. He doesn’t belong to anyone. He gets enough possessive crap from his father without his oldest friend imposing on him too.”

Marinette heard a sharp intake of breath, then a sniffle. When Chloé didn’t respond, Marinette continued speaking. “Adrien told me a bit about your history. How you grew up together. How you were his only friend for a long time. He still really cares about you.” Marinette added. “He’ll always care about you.”

“THEN WHY ARE YOU HERE INSTEAD OF HIM? EVERYONE IS ALWAYS LEAVING.”

“You wouldn’t see him last time,” Marinette stated plainly. Marinette remembered when Chloé was younger and taken out of school for about a week due to family drama. Maybe those old wounds were what the latter comment was about, but now wasn’t the time to press.

“That was last week. Maybe I changed my mind. He didn’t even bother to check,” Chloé said harshly. “Why send you, of all people?”

“Hell if I know what he’s thinking,” Marinette snarled. She was wasting her time talking to a door. Her kwami were nowhere to be seen, and yesterday she had been sprayed by some disgusting slime by a frog-monster akuma. She’d had enough. “You were such a damn brat in _collège,_ you got half the class akumatized. You showed no remorse for anything because you thought your could do no wrong, when everything you did was wrong. Maybe if someone had told you sooner, you wouldn’t have your latest mistake plastered on every tabloid in France.”

The last part was an exaggeration, but it did the trick. Chloé banged on the door hard enough to make Marinette jolt back slightly. “You bitch.”

“Right back at you,” Marinette said without missing a beat. “But you know what? You don’t deserve the backlash you got for that one mistake,” she added firmly, in a slightly gentler voice. “Adrien said you might not be eating properly, and this stuff isn’t worth starving yourself over, or worse.”

“I’m not that far gone.” Chloé had taken offense to the last dig. Marinette could hear the abrasiveness. It sounded much closer to normal Chloé, which was a relief.

“Prove it.”

When Chloé opened the door Marinette was glaring, a challenge in her eyes as she held the white paper bag from the bakery straight out in front of her. Though her arm did not sway, Marinette’s eyes widened as she took in the blonde’s appearance.

Chloé’s makeup was a heavy, caked-on mess. She had mascara running down her face, and her eyes were puffy and red. She did look frailer, Marinette noticed, which was saying a lot because she had always been thin.

“Go ahead, laugh at me,” Chloé spat. _Good. Keep talking, react, let it out_ , Marinette thought, although she was mentally bracing herself for a blow. If it turned into a cat fight, was it bad form to utilize some of the skills she had picked up as Ladybug? “Snap a picture and post it all across the interwebs. I’m sure the paparazzi will eat it up.”

Marinette didn’t move her arm, which was perpendicular to her body and holding the white bag out like a shield and a peace offering. “I am insulted you think I am that petty and cruel. Maybe that’s something you would do—oh, I’m sorry, something you have done—but I am not that mean.” Marinette tucked a lose strand of hair behind her ear with her free hand, scrambling for something else to say. “You look like crap right now, but I was also surprised. Your hair looks really pretty when it’s wavy.”

It did. Her face was undoubtedly a mess, but her light blonde hair fell in waves and circles down her back, nearly reaching her waist.

Chloé looked down at her hair as if she just noticed it was there. “I just haven’t had time to go to a salon.” She sounded offended by Marinette’s compliment.

“Why do you even straighten it?” Marinette recalled how Chloé had princess curls in elementary school. Perfect ringlets tied with ribbons which were always color-coordinated with her outfits. Mrs. Bourgeois must have dressed her then because she had worn a lot of blue. Especially the shade of blue that matched her eyes, which was a go-to for someone with her coloring. Marinette also remembered how all the popular girls in cliques through the years had long, straight, shiny hair.

There were other, broader statements she wanted to say. As she stood in the decadent luxury suite she pictured, fleetingly, Alix and Adrien and a few other kids from school who came from a world of unimaginable riches. Who grew up with mountains of material possessions to help support them under the crushing weight of archaic constraints that were still very much at play.  Adrien and Alix’s had both rebelled in obvious and not-so-obvious ways. It was the only way to survive the pressure—to fight back. “You don’t have to listen to everything the magazines tell you,” was the statement Marinette settled for.

Chloé’s faced contorted, like the last crack of whatever mask she was holding together on her face through sheer willpower broke. “I...”  
As Chloé trailed off, Marinette’s expression softened substantially. “C’mon,” Marinette said, putting the bag down on the floor and stepping into the bathroom. With a light touch she guided Chloé to sit down on the toilet seat. “Let’s get you cleaned up, and then you can eat.”

Marinette grabbed tissues and found the bottle labeled “makeup remover” on the vanity. Chloé sat stiffly on her hands, but didn’t resist when Marinette bent over and started wiping her face. “You know, you look much prettier without all this makeup caked across your face too.” Chloé remained silent until Marinette was finished.  
Once Chloé no longer resembled a raccoon, they sat by the coffee table in the lounge area of the suite. Marinette watched Chloé slowly eat a fruit tart and a macaron. She spoke after, with her gaze directed very intently at the open box of sweets.

“I was going to go out today. But I told that to myself yesterday too, and the day before,” Chloé admitted. “I was getting ready. I was dressed. My face was all put on. And I just couldn’t move. I couldn’t do anything but think of my friends, those girls, laughing at me. Then I started shaking, and I couldn’t stop crying. I don’t know why. And that’s the story of my life for the past couple weeks. Of course I couldn’t talk to Daddy about it, and he goes and calls Adrien, of all people. I didn’t want Adrien to see me like this.” She popped another macaron in her mouth. “These are really good.”

There was evidence of Chloé trying to get her life back together scattered across the room. Marinette took note of a box for a new Simcard and a new phone case. “You changed your number?” She ventured a guess.

“That call to Adrien is going to be the last call I ever make on that phone,” Chloé said with a nod. “How much do you know about the drama that happened?”

“I heard rumors at school, but I’m only choosing to believe the stuff I heard from Alya, who has learned to fact-check. She apparently got her info from an inside source. I didn’t ask how.”

At these words Chloé seemed to crumble slightly, like she was doubling over from being shot by an arrow. She recovered quickly by biting into a black sesame flavored cupcake Sabine was pushing to be a hit at the bakery. “The girls and I we were never all that close. Not beyond the surface level, anyway, and certainly not that nice to each other. But they were cool, you know.” Chloé looked up to meet Marinette’s eyes. “I’ve been tainted, is what Ava said. I’m not cool enough for them anymore,” Chloé said hollowly.

“You know what Alya would say?” Marinette asked. “Ava should get the stick out of her ass and the chip off her shoulder.”

At the jibe, Chloé’s mouth twisted into a cruel smile that quickly vanished.

“Do I even have to tell you that they aren’t your real friends, or have you figured it out for yourself?” Marinette pointed to Chloé’s phone on the coffee table. “I’m going to add my number to your new phone, okay?”

Chloé nodded, and Marinette went ahead. “Call me if you ever want to talk, I guess,” Marinette added. “I’m saying this, not as a favor to Adrien, but because I want to help you if you ever need it,” she realized.

Marinette checked her watch. She would have to go home for dinner soon, or call her parents. She wasn’t sure if she should go, however, so she stood around awkwardly.

“What are you still doing here?” Chloé asked briskly. Marinette bristled, grabbed her bag, and left. As Marinette was nearly out the door Chloé called after her. “Marinette. Thanks.”

Marinette offered her a smile. Her expression turned to exasperation when she realized she had two kwami to look for now.

\--

 

Chloé arrived at school on Monday with her hair glossy and pin-straight. She wore it down, instead of in its usual ponytail. She paused at the front gates for a few seconds before approaching Marinette and Adrien’s group. At the time, it included Alya and Nino as well.

“I love your eyeliner,” Marinette said automatically, because it was true, and worth commenting on. The makeup on her face was a lot lighter than usual, Marinette saw. She was wearing basic foundation, lip gloss, mascara. and the eyeliner. Her electric blue eyeliner was drawn sharply across her lids like war paint. Marinette supposed Chloé was going into battle, in a way, judging from how much attention she was attracting.

“It looks amazing, doesn’t it?” Chloé’s reply was haughty.

“Glad to see you’re feeling better,” Marinette said in a flatter tone.

“I am, thanks,” Chloé said in a softer voice. She nodded at Alya and Nino, who nodded back warily. “I was wondering g if I could sit with you all at lunch today, if you are eating in school.”

“We’ll be eating here,” Alya as-a-matter-of-fact.

Adrien cut her off. “Of course you can eat with us, Chlo.”

Chloé looked relieved. She blinked a few times before nodding and muttering a thanks, then rushing off to class in her kitten heels.

At lunch, no one outright said anything about Chloé’s presence. Alix looked like she was about to comment at the beginning, but Nathaniel and Marinette stopped her, and by the end of lunch, Alix didn’t seem to care. Chloé remained stony and silent through the meal. Instead of speaking, she let the conversation proceed as if she weren’t there. It started off a little terser than usual, but picked up around the safe topic of preparing for upcoming tests. Everyone was civil.

Since class really wasn’t a time to talk, Marinette wanted, on some level, to check on Chloé after school. She wasn’t sure what she would say, but at least trying to talk to her would be better than not doing anything at all.

However, once the final bell rang, Chloé walked to the car like she was tuning the rest of the student body (or specifically, the girls she was neck-deep in drama with) out. When she turned over her shoulder one last time, Marinette and Adrien waved at her in their concerned way. she gave a small smile, waved back, and turned and left.

\--

 

**Present Time**

 

Their trip to Tibet was the furthest thing from Marinette’s mind the following week when she checked her inbox and shrieked so loudly in a moment of panic that Adrien popped his head into her bedroom, still holding the PS4 controller. “What is it?” He asked.

“The contest for Koko Vita,” Marinette exclaimed. “I’m one of nine finalists.” Marinette stood up from her desk and passed the computer to Adrien, who read the email. “Only, I didn’t realize what being a finalist would mean until right now,” Marinette added.

Adrien read words of congratulations, some more information about the philosophy of the company, and then the section Marinette had been shrieking over. “As a finalist you are invited to present your design at headquarters. If you cannot find a female model on your own, one will be assigned to you,” Adrien read aloud from the second paragraph of the email. “You didn’t know this about the finals before?” Adrien walked over to Marinette’s desk and set the laptop down. He looked up at the space above the desk, where a corkboard full of pictures hung. Next to the corkboard, taped to the wall, was the contest flyer. Adrien reached for it, and then looked at Marinette. “May I?”

“Take it,” Marinette answered.

Adrien ripped the flyer off the wall and looked over both sides. “It’s stated in the fine print, here. It was probably also in the paperwork you signed. Did you not read the fine print?”

“Um, I skimmed it? Really fast.” Marinette retied her hair in a bun in order to have something to do to let out all her nervous energy. “Okay, a presentation of my design. I can do it. It’s not as scary as it sounds. I’ve done similar things. Not in front of an actual company, but…”

Adrien spoke while Marinette was still mumbled to herself. “It’s too bad they specified female. Otherwise, I could do it.”

“You know I wouldn’t have you do it anyway,” Marinette declared. “Not right now, at least.”

Adrien shot her a playful smile. “Is this a promise for the future?”

Marinette laughed. “Oh yeah, I swear you can model my designs once I’m established and have my own show at Paris fashion week. You can be in every single one if you want,” she said in a syrupy voice before sighing. She sat down at the swivel chair by her desk and started spinning in circles. “Seriously though, who can be my model? They even specify a height and weight range. Well, I did make the design sample size, because that’s what the contest told me to do.” Marinette wrinkled her nose.

Adrien sat down on Marinette’s bed. “Have I mentioned that the modeling industry sucks?”

Marinette stopped the chair from spinning and faced Adrien by shifting so that she was facing the side and resting her elbow on the back of the chair. She propped her head up with her hand. “Only all the time.”

They sat in an easy silence for a minute before Adrien spoke again. “Hey, I bet one of the models I know will do it.”

Marinette perked up at the idea. “One of your friends?”

“Yeah, Wendy,” Adrien said. “She’s one of the few in the industry I sort-of keep in contact with. I hope she says yes. Everyone else I’m well-acquainted enough with to ask works as a male model.”

Marinette turned back to her laptop for more details about the presentation. “It says here we can make as many preparations beforehand with our model if we so choose, but that if we go with a randomly assigned model, we only get three hours prep beforehand, at the headquarters, immediately before the presentation. That doesn’t sound fair.” Marinette turned toward Adrien again. “Can you ask for me? The sponsor will take care of the legal-financial stuff. It says the remuneration for models is a good amount, so her agency should be okay with it. Otherwise, I’ll just go with whatever model they assign me.”

“I’ll ask.” Adrien pulled out her phone and started typing out a text.

Later, after Adrien had left her room and returned to playing Kingdom Heats 3, Marinette went into the kitchen to get a snack.

Adrien paused the game and turned to her from the couch. “I just realized, summer is almost over,” he said wistfully.

Marinette popped a frozen grape into her mouth. “What did you think?”

“The best one yet, so far.”

Marinette watched as Adrien returned to the game the world had waited ages for. Having moved out, it was the summer Adrien got to play as many video games as he wanted (given he got through all the work he had). This summer was certainly better than the past spring, but it had never been a fair contest. Nonetheless, when Marinette paused to think about all the pieces that had to fall into place for her to be standing were she was at that point—in the flat she shared with Adrien, having become a finalist in a design contest, and being able to talk about her identity as Ladybug with her closest friends—she had to agree. It was a pretty decent summer.

\--

 

Going through the same small public school system since kindergarten could be a curse. Since everyone knew everyone else, Marinette never had to deal with the whole meeting other people _en masse_ thing. She realized how pampered her life had been. That she never had to be the new kid, and that all of her schoolmates, even if they didn’t know her, had known _of_ her in the same way she had been aware of them. She had arrived at the school’s main building early, and didn’t want to be the first person to enter looking completely lost that Tuesday morning, so she sat down on a park bench and started texting Alya.

**[Marinette Dupain-Cheng @ 07h38]**

**Was it so scary for you when you were the new kid?**

**[Alya Césaire @ 07h45]**

**What, back when I was fifteen? I got over it pretty quickly thanks to you.**

**Just remember, you’re all new, so no one is new. Talk and be yourself.**

**[Marinette Dupain-Cheng @ 07h47]**

**You get to go to school with everyone else.**

**[Alya Césaire @ 07h50]**

**Doesn’t matter if we’re on different tracks.**

**[Alya Césaire @ 07h51]**

**Now stop loitering and just go for it.**

 

The semester started with an all-day orientation where Marinette was introduced to the rest of her class. It had begun somewhat awkwardly, with everyone stating their names, where they were from, and a random fact about themselves. Because she honestly couldn’t think of anything else, Marinette had said, very vaguely, that she had recently gone to Tibet with a bunch of friends. It caught some people’s attention, but when asked how it was, she’d simply said “It was nice.”

Growing up in Paris, and attending the school that she did, Marinette was no stranger to people from all types of racial backgrounds. That detail seemed natural to her. It was the number of people from abroad, and the number of people much older, that shocked her. Many of her classmates were dead-serious about their ambitions, and made no show of hiding it. A lot of the older students, in their mid to late twenties, or even their early thirties, had gone to university before. Some had even worked for companies or taken other fashion courses. The oldest incoming student (or so they all assumed) staunchly refused to reveal his age, and mentioned he had held a marketing job before. Marinette thought it was very brave to give up an established, stable position in pursuit of something else entirely.

There was a girl three years older than Marinette who had come all the way from Trinidad. She had mentioned she had taken a year-long language course prior to enrolling. A handful of others had gone out of their way to learn French with the intention of working in the industry.

It wasn’t so different from the reason she started studying Italian.

The day was a whirlwind of tours, activities, explanations of how their ID cards worked and protocol for missing sessions. (They would have to contact several parties with a reason and get approval as early as possible.) Marinette was beginning to think she had actually enrolled in a very expensive boot camp. Their schedules would be rigorous, and slacking would not be tolerated. Classes from 9AM to 6PM with an hour for lunch and a few fifteen minute breaks in between. It would make scheduling patrols a bit more difficult, assuming she wanted to get a healthy amount of sleep. Marinette reminded herself that it really wasn’t any worse than the hours she pulled for her internship out of her own volition.

The girl from Trinidad, whose name turned out to be Willa, pulled Marinette aside towards the end of their tour through the workrooms.

“You are a Paris native, yes?” She asked shyly.

“Uh, yeah,” Marinette replied.

“Have you ever seen Ladybug and Chat Noir? Like in real life?” Willa’s eyes gleamed. “And Paris has two other heroes as well, yes? Honeybee and Celeste. Have you seen them too?”

Marinette coughed. She supposed she got the question because she was the only one born and raised in the city center, though two others were from the greater Paris area. “Oh, everyone in the city has seen them at this point. They patrol pretty frequently at night.”

Willa lowered her head, as if sharing a secret. “I do hope to spot them while I am here. Real life superheroes. Can you imagine? My parents were hesitant to even let me come to Paris even though I had been living in Lyon for so long because they were afraid it wouldn’t be safe. And then with what just happened in August…” Willa sighed.

“Parents worry no matter what,” Marinette reassured while pointedly ignoring the first part of her statement. “My parents are worried too, and I’m living in the same city as them. I think it’s really cool that you came from so far away.”

“Oh, it’s been my dream since I was little,” Willa said. “I applied without thinking I would actually get in.”

“Same.” The two girls stopped talking as the group gathered in the next room. She didn’t talk to anyone else before lunch, because they weren’t given an opportunity to. The class had been seated in a conference room and talked at by various people who would be their instructors for about two hours cumulative. They were several minutes late for their promised 12:30 lunch hour. Instinctively, Marinette started texting someone else once they were free to go.

 

**[Marinette Dupain-Cheng @ 12h41]**

**Nathaniel, how did your first week go?**

**[Nathaniel Kurtzberg @ 12h49]**

**You’re starting today, right? It’s a totally different environment. Made me realize how academic our school was.**

**[Marinette Dupain-Cheng @ 12h50]**

**They trained us very well for one thing, and not much else.**

**[Nathaniel Kurtzberg @ 12h52]**

**Gobelins is very much based on the workshop structure. I try my best to follow directions.**

**[Marinette Dupain-Cheng @ 12h54]**

**My program seems to be similar.**

**[Nathaniel Kurtzberg @ 12h55]**

**Class is starting. I’ll talk to you later, Marinette.**

 

Marinette ate her sandwich and salad with little fanfare for lunch. She was saving the chocolate cupcake for dessert. In addition to the tuition her parents had graciously helped her with, but that she vowed she would pay them back for, she would also be handling the cost of materials for projects out of pocket. She had realized this fact before enrolling, but it was different staring at the syllabus for four classes and counting out the projects. She had amassed enough bolts of cloth over the years, so maybe she wouldn’t have to buy everything? There was also rent, which Adrien would cover if she were really in a pinch, but Marinette was determined to contribute her third of it no matter what. Thus, she had declined Willa’s invitation to go eat lunch at a nearby café.

“Everything in the area is overpriced,” Marinette had warned. “Four euros for a bottle of water and twelve for a sandwich adds up pretty quickly.”

“I may pack my lunch tomorrow then,” Willa considered. “But for now, I want to appreciate the trip to a Paris café. It’s so romantic.” Marinette smiled slightly, and Willa made a dismissive hand gesture. “Although you grew up here, so you may not find it so special.”

“I’ll see you in an hour then,” Marinette said.

Marinette munched on her sandwich (it contained the teriyaki chicken left over from last night’s dinner) and examined the syllabus a bit more closely. Four classes, in draping, design fundamentals, patternmaking, and a history of fashion. The workload looked not so different than what she had in the final two years of _lycée._ She had gotten through those two years and sat through university exams (in addition to preparing her application for _La Chambre Syndicale_ ) by drinking a lot of caffeine, sleeping every chance she got, and receiving a lot of moral and food-based support from her parents. And then there was everything happening with Ladybug.

This year was looking to be just as busy. Aside from the number of commitments she knew she had, Marinette had no clue what to expect. At least she had dabbled in all of the practical elements of her courses during the summer. Plus, Willa seemed nice enough. She could be an acquaintance to talk to in class, if not a potential friend. _The next four years here may be a wild ride, but I can do it,_ Marinette thought to herself. _I can do it._

The needless, unavoidable anxiety persisted anyway. It took the form of frenetic energy that had Marinette wired and wishing she were patrolling. Once the info-packed orientation was over around 4PM, Marinette slipped out and actually did transform into Ladybug. The sun was still up and she wasn’t even scheduled to patrol that night, but she wanted to feel the yo-yo in her hands and the wind rush past her ears. She circled the outskirts of the city casually, and made what was essentially a spiral loop toward the center. While heading towards Père Lachaise – Ménilmontant, a pedestrian walking through the park caught her eye. He waved at her with the hand that wasn’t carrying a grocery bag. and Ladybug swooped down to meet him. She landed on the park bench next to where he had been standing, waiting for her. She was about a head taller than him, for once, standing on the bench.

“Fancy meeting you here,” Adrien said as he looked up at her. “How was your day?”

Ladybug laughed. “Corny lines, handsome boy.” Adrien waited expectantly. Ladybug tugged at her pigtails. “Class starts tomorrow, and orientation was fine, but it started to really hit me that this thing, fashion class, was happening. It’s hard to explain, but it made me feel super jittery, and I just wanted to be Ladybug again.”

“I get it,” Adrien said.

“Yeah.” Ladybug thought of Adrien at thirteen, defying his father’s wishes and going to public school. He must have been excited. He must have been terrified. He must have, because there were some things in life you simply could not predict. Chat Noir had been an escape for Adrien even back then.

“There’re milk and eggs in the bag,” Adrien remembered. “I should get it back to the apartment.”

“See you in a bit,” Ladybug said. “I think I’m going to visit my parents because I’m headed in that direction anyway.”

Ladybug continued her spiral direction of travel, getting closer and closer to the city center, until she reached the bakery. She transformed quickly and went in. By the time Marinette got there, it was nearly supper time, so her parents suggested she call Adrien, and have him join them. Adrien arrived so quickly, Marinette suspected he had traveled in costume.

Orientation was over. Tomorrow, entering the school building would be a whole other ballgame. She would have to be focused and present. She was out to prove that she deserved to be there. That she didn’t get in through some fluke, and could keep up with the fast-paced, hyper-critical environment. Mostly, she wanted to have fun, fully immerse herself in the craft she loved, and learn tons. Everyone she graduated with, and many other people she could only think of in the abstract, had just finished secondary school and were going through periods of transition. Marinette reminded herself of that fact as she walked into her first class that morning.

They started with fundamentals: sketching figures and garments. Sketching wasn’t her strong suite. She preferred draping a lot more, but she could do it adequately if she had to. They were given fifteen minutes to sketch whatever they wanted, and then the next fifteen minutes to adapt one of the things they sketched to fit the theme of flowers in summer. The teacher, Madame Fabre, came around and gave individual critiques to each student.

Marinette had sketched some flower patterns. She ended up drawing a lot of snapdragons because she couldn’t remember what forget-me-nots looked like. Marinette’s first instinct was to draw a sundress to go with the theme, but decided against it for the sole purpose of challenging herself. Instead, she ended up with a long vest, the pattern of flowers meant to be on the inside lining. When Madam Fabre came over, they talked through the practicality of creating an outer garment for the summer.

Willa joined her in the lounge area during lunch, carrying her own Tupperware. “I saw one of them. I saw Ladybug yesterday!” She said excitedly. “Sometime after class! I couldn’t pull out my phone fast enough to snap a picture though.”

Marinette nearly choked on her rice. “W-where?” She took a long sip of water.

“I was on my way to the bakery,” Willa said. “I think you were right. Eating out every day is not going to work if I am going to afford project materials.” Willa sat down across from Marinette and opened her container. There was bread inside it, along with what looked like curry in a separate compartment.

“What are you having for lunch?” Marinette asked curiously.

“It’s a soup,” Willa explained. “I’ve been living here for a year, and still can’t find the right ingredients to make it just right, but it still tastes okay. There’s potato and chicken and parsley, and pumpkins. It’s a little thicker than Indian curry.” Willa offered a small piece of bread to Marinette, who accepted. “I’ve come to like it dipped in bread, but my mother thinks eating it that way is blasphemy.”

Marinette dipped her piece of bread in the sauce and tasted it. “It’s really good,” she said. It was flavorful, both sweet and spicy. Marinette looked down at her fried rice. “Do you want some of my lunch?”

Willa smiled but shook her head. “I’m fine, thank you.” She dipped more bread in her soup. “I adapted the recipe from cow heel soup, which tastes a lot better than how it sounds. I can never find the main ingredient for it.”

Marinette and Willa talked through lunch, and then hurried back to class. Once class was over, Marinette check her phone and saw she had a text from Adrien. She responded as she left the building.

 

**[Adrien Agreste @ 16h44]**

**I counted five LB and six CN charms on people’s bags or used as keychains. Looks like I’m more popular than you for once ;)**

**[Marinette Dupain-Cheng @ 18h03]**

**Ah, I forgot that official merch was a thing.**

 

**[Adrien Agreste @ 18h09]**

**I even saw one girl with all four of us hanging from her bag. The charms looked knitted. Probably ordered off Etsy.**

The next text was a picture attachment. It showed four miniature-dolls hanging off the strap of a blue bag. The bodies were about twice the height of the heads, and contained the basic details of their costumes. Their hair looked to be made of felt. What impressed Marinette the most was that they got their eye colors correct—down to the fact that the beads used for Ladybug’s eyes and the ones used for Honeybee’s were two different shades of blue.

 

**[Marinette Dupain-Cheng @ 18h12]**

**Defs Etsy, or she made them herself.**

 

**[Adrien Agreste @ 18h14]**

**I think I kind of scared her when I asked to take a picture of the charms. She seemed really freaked out. But she let me take the picture. It may have also been because Alya saw, and wanted a picture too.**

 

Marinette texted Alya, asking about the situation.

 

**[Alya Césaire @ 18h21]**

**Adrien was so into the charms, it was adorable. The poor girl looked like she was about to spontaneously combust. I bet she made them herself, which was why she was so embarrassed.**

**90% sure. 10% is the usual human being drooling over your boyfriend.**

**[Marinette Dupain-Cheng @ 18h23]**

**The charms are very cute. If I ever run into her when I visit your campus, I’ll tell her.**

**[Alya Césaire @ 18h23]**

**Haha. We don’t even know random charm girls name. Or if she’s even a first-year.**

 

Marinette returned to texting Adrien.

 

**[Marinette Dupain-Cheng @ 18h25]**

**Talking with Alya, I can confirm you did freak her out. Try not to spook anyone else, Kitty.**

 

**[Adrien Agreste @ 18h28]**

**Three people stopped me and politely asked for a picture, so I let them. Alix not so subtly shoved another one who tried to take a pic without permission.**

**[Marinette Dupain-Cheng @ 18h30]**

**Alix? What is she doing there?**

**I thought she was taking a break from school, and training for speed skating.**

**[Adrien Agreste @ 18h34]**

**I asked. Something about seeing her older brother. I think he’s a teaching fellow here.**

**[Marinette Dupain-Cheng @ 18h35]**

**Wow, small world. Meanwhile, I’m stuck in school all by myself.**

**[Adrien Agreste @ 18h38]**

**The consequences of going to a university tunnel school. You had to decide to break the mold. Don’t tell me it’s been a day and you don’t have at least 1 casual acquaintance?**

**[Marinette Dupain-Cheng @ 18h41]**

**I have 1. Her name is Willa. She let me try some of her lunch, so we have truly bonded. It’s weird though. I keep turning around and expecting to see you or Alya or anyone else from _lycée_ but I never do.**

**[Adrien Agreste @ 18h44]**

**I would like to think father would have allowed me to attend this university. Assuming I could have gotten in with my homeschooling. I wouldn’t have run into you here, though** **L**

**[Marinette Dupain-Cheng @ 18h46]**

**Maybe in another life I would have ended up there too, just for the basically-nonexistent tuition fees.**

**[Adrien Agreste @ 18h48]**

**Maybe it wouldn’t have mattered. We would have been together by then anyway.**

**[Marinette Dupain-Cheng @ 18h49]**

**?**

**[Adrien Agreste @ 18h50]**

**Called it. If I hadn’t gone to school with you, and you didn’t have a spectacular crush on Adrien, LB would have totally fallen for CN.**

**[Marinette Dupain-Cheng @ 18h52]**

**Getting a little cocky there, aren’t you? LB would have thought CN was a massive dork, just like she always has in this universe. ;)**

At this point Marinette arrived at the door of her apartment, which Adrien opened as she was getting out her keys.

\--

 

Juan and Valerie were the only other people in the class 21 or younger besides Willa and Marinette. Juan seemed sweet, and was very soft spoken, but had the boldest fashion sense of anyone Marinette had ever met. Two weeks into the program, she’d complemented him on a shirt he was wearing (which of course he had made himself). He was genuinely surprised she had noticed. Her complement earned her and Willa an invitation from Juan to go out for drinks. Willa quickly agreed. Marinette, luckily, didn’t have patrol that night. As the fourth person in their age range, Valerie also received an invitation, but she was busy and declined.

It was 9PM when they arrived at the bar, which was packed full of people that Friday night. As the representative local, Juan had pressed Marinette for some local secrets, but Marinette was not really helpful.

“I don’t really drink,” she had explained. “And when I do, I usually don’t go out to do it.” Not to pubs, anyway. She was happy to occasionally have a glass of wine in her own apartment, or with her parents. Alya’s house was a fun place to get buzzed and play board games, especially because her siblings (who were _not_ allowed alcohol yet) got really, really competitive. Also, Chloé’s suite had a minibar she was very, very generous about.

After a few sips of beer Juan started describing the small town he was from, which was forty-five minutes north of Madrid City by car. From there, he started talking about the food from Spain he missed, which got Willa talking about the all the Caribbean food _she_ missed. Marinette checked the chatrooms periodically as Willa and Juan very enthusiastically compared notes. Celeste was on patrol right now. Marinette assumed things were going fine, or else she would have heard something in the chatroom.

“Not one else takes us seriously,” Juan said after he drank his second glass of beer. “The instructors, sure, but it’s their job. The other classmates though, especially some of the older ones, do not. We’re just a bunch of kids to them.”

“To be fair, we are just kids,” Willa said. “Juan, you’re nineteen. When I was nineteen I was making plans to drop out of university in England and come here. I hadn’t taken French since high school.”

“We just have to show the we’re worth taking seriously.” Marinette said. She was still nursing her first glass of beer, which was mostly full. Marinette really did prefer the taste of wine, and she was at the pub for the conversation, not the alcohol. She wouldn’t want to get a hangover under any circumstance, but she was particularly cautious now. She wanted Master Fu’s theory about being able to activate the piece of Volpina to be correct, but wanted to be prepared if it wasn’t. Navigating the labyrinth for the first time on her own was going to be difficult enough without a hangover.

Considering Willa and Juan also had their phones out, Marinette figured it wasn’t rude to text either. She was explaining her philosophy about her current alcohol consumption to Alya, who was demanding they let her tag along on their first trip, when Adrien texted her.

 

**[Adrien Agreste @ 21h32]**

**Wendy said yes. Can you meet her this Sunday?**

 

It took Marinette a few minutes to remember who Wendy was. _Model. Eveningwear. Contest. Right._

 

**[Marinette Dupain-Cheng @ 21h33]**

**Sure.**

**[Adrien Agreste @ 21h34]**

**FYI, when you do come visit my campus, do not be alarmed by the gossip. The tabloid picture of me and Chlo got rediscovered and started some very resilient rumors.**

**[Marinette Dupain-Cheng @ 21h35]**

**Oh, Alya mentioned something like it. She finds it hilarious. Doesn’t the campus have very strict security?**

**[Adrien Agreste @ 21h37]**

**The strictest I’ve had for a school. Which is great. I don’t think it’s just for me though. Alya, whose sources I trust, says there is the son of a real estate mogul from Dubai, and a transcontinental heiress among our class.**

**[Adrien Agreste @ 21h38]**

**I do wonder how many future-famous people we’ve got. Politicians, professors, and future Nobel prize winners.**

**[Marinette Dupain-Cheng @ 21h39]**

**Haha. Don’t get star-struck preemptively.**

**Although I sometimes wondered the same thing at my internship, and in my school now.**

**[Adrien Agreste @ 21h40]**

**Don’t get star-struck preemptively. ^__^**

**[Marinette Dupain-Cheng @21h40]**

**D-: < Don’t go stealing my lines.**

**[Adrien Agreste @ 21h41]**

**:P**

 

“Marinette. Marinette?”

Marinette looked up from her phone with a jolt as Juan called her name. “Yeah?”

“I was just wondering about Tibet,” Juan said. “You went there over the summer? Did you take a plane? How long did you stay for?”

_Crap,_ Marinette thought. “Yeah, we took a plane,” she lied. “We were there for a week. Um, just hit all the tourist traps. There was this one temple my friend insisted we visit that was off the beaten path. But otherwise it was all very touristy.” Marinette decided to continue rambling, to hopefully prevent Juan from asking any very specific questions she wouldn’t be able to answer.

“How long was the flight to Tibet?” Willa asked.

_No!_ Marinette resisted the temptation to take a long swig of beer. “From Paris? I don’t really remember. It was a redeye flight, and I was asleep for most of it.” In a panic Marinette grabbed her phone and looked the information up. “The flight itself was fifteen hours.” _We walked a fifteen-hour flight in two hours?!_ Willa and Juan were both looking at her strangely. “It’s probably information I should remember,” Marinette admitted. “But I just remember being miserable,” she fibbed. “It was during that trip that I realized I do not do well on airplanes, especially after the eight-hour mark.”

“What an awful way to find out,” Willa said sympathetically. She proceeded to recall some long flights she had been on. Marinette waited until it was just past 10PM, then said she had to leave. She was relieved that in those few minutes, she hadn’t gotten any more questions about the week-long vacation to Tibet she hadn’t taken. She made a mental note to look stuff up when she got home and get the bare bones of an itinerary together, in case she was asked more questions about it in the future.

Adrien laughed when she recalled her sudden interrogation. “At least you didn’t say it was a direct flight,” he said as he glanced at his phone. “Google tells me those don’t exist from Paris.”

“I can’t believe they didn’t catch onto the fact that I was lying regardless of blatantly wrong information,” Marinette said as she fetched cookies for Tikki and cheese for Plagg. “I was so flustered.”

Adrien looked up from his textbook. He was finishing up his homework. “Blame it on the alcohol.”

“I had like, three sips of beer.”

“So you’re a super-lightweight, who is apparently not good on airplanes and has done all the touristy things in Lhasa,” Adrien said. “You better write all this stuff down, lest you forget.”

“It’s like you’re cultivating a third identity!” Tikki said as she accepted her cookie.

Marinette didn’t want a third identity. She was busy enough with one identity and the persona she sometimes slipped into. Then Marinette realized it had been two days since Tikki had spoken, and she had really, really missed the sound of her kwami’s voice. Marinette poked Tikki affectionately.

“Do go on,” Marinette said. “Tell me more about my third identity.”

Hearing Tikki’s speak for an extended period of time was like having a cool, refreshing drink of water after a trek up a hill on a hot day. She felt her shoulders drop and her entire body relax as Adrien and Tikki bounced ideas off each other to create Marinette’s “third” identity. Tikki had suggested that Marinette had gotten the group lost during their fourth day in Lhasa, and went on to describing their misadventure in so much detail that Marinette realized Tikki had probably had several hosts in the area before. She wondered what their names were, what their lives had been like, and if Tikki missed any of the locations she had ever lived in. Marinette wished she could have pulled a stunt like in _Avatar: The Last Airbender,_ and talked to some of her past lives. Perhaps past hosts could offer her tips. At the very least, Marinette could ask them if Tikki had gone silent before.

\--

 

Marinette had gone to the Koko Vita offices on Saturday, where she was congratulated and made to fill out a lot of paperwork. She was given a keycard with access to the front entrance, and a single room in the building—the one that housed her entry. They were very strict with security. The lone room she had access to didn’t have any windows, and Marinette didn’t even have access to the bathroom in the facility. Marinette guess there were also security cameras she was not being told about. The following day, Marinette had plans to meet Wendy in front of the office building. Adrien went with her, and stayed just long enough to make the official introductions. He’d promise to watch some really campy action movie in theatres with Nino that day.

“Thank you for coming on such short notice,” Marinette said after they signed into the building, and found room S24. Marinette pawed the right side of the door for the light switch until she found it. The room lit up. There was a folding screen and low stool on one side of the room, and her design hanging from a thin, wheeled clothing rack on the other. It was still in its plastic bag and had acquired several papers attached at the hanger. Marinette flipped through the papers curiously. One had her name, age, and address printed on it. The other papers had random numbers written on them in either red or black marker. “Adrien talks about you from time to time.”

“Does he?” Wendy tucked a strand of long hair behind her ear. “He hardly ever talks about his personal life while modeling. He’s nice, but closed off a little.” She set her bag down on the floor of a corner of the room and chuckled to herself. “Then again, I can be the same way.”

“He didn’t say much.” Marinette put her bag down too, and carefully unzipped the plastic bag. It was different from the one she had submitted her entry in, made of thicker material. “Only that you kept popping up in the same circuits, after the fact, and you were fun to talk to during advertising season. That you guys talked about video games and anime, mostly.”

“Yeah, do you play?” Wendy had a manic, excited gleam in her eye. “Adrien mentioned that you really weren’t into anime. I didn’t know about video games.”

“I played a lot more when I was younger,” Marinette admitted. She turned to see Wendy sitting down cross-legged on the floor. She was wearing a plain white T-shirt and blue jeans—the standard uniform for a booking. She had dark brown hair and eyes. Her hair was waist-length and pin-straight. Her straight fringe framed her large, doe-eyes and short lashes. She looked like a doll, with full lips and a thin, straight nose. Her skin was light brown.

Marinette sat down next to Wendy, which seemed to surprise the model. “I would have gotten up immediately for the fitting if you’d told me to,” she said quickly.

“Don’t worry about it,” Marinette said. “You’re doing me this huge favor. Relax.” Marinette smiled warmly. “Why did you decide to start modeling?” Marinette asked. “And moving to France is a commitment. I mean, besides the looks. I’m sure you’ve had your face and figure described in very eloquent ways by casting agents.”

Wendy pouted slightly. Marinette could tell the camera would adore her. “Oh, you don’t know the half of it. ‘Exotic’ is one I hate,” Wendy started with fervor. “The word really is a catch-all for Eurocentric assumptions of the existence of certain features and race as a social construct. Doe-eyed and mysterious are the others.” Wendy cupped her chin with her fingers theatrically. “Although ‘mysterious’ probably also plays on the blonde vs brunette thing. You are part Asian, right?”

Marinette nodded. “Mom’s Chinese. Dad’s French. You? I wondered, but didn’t want to ask without seeming rude.”

Marinette’s words seemed to amuse Wendy even more. “You’re going to see me in my underwear and know my measurements, and you’re worried about seeming rude?”

“They’re two entirely different things. One is a part of the job. One is a matter of being respectful.”

Wendy smiled broadly, revealing a dimple on each cheek. “Adrien’s lucky. Anyway, since You’re wondering, and you’re polite about it, I’m happy to tell you. My Dad’s Irish-Australian. My Mom’s aboriginal.”

“Cool,” Marinette said. Wendy seemed keen on saying more, so Marinette nodded at her to continue.

“I wanted to model because as frivolous and dismissive the rest of the world is about the industry, fashion holds power. It shapes attitudes and influences thoughts. I want to be a part of the representation for aboriginal and native people’s that is largely absent from mainstream media. I want to set an example, and give the little girl or boy in the Outback opening a magazine a sense of belonging and acceptance. There is a certain kind of joy achieved by seeing someone you can project yourself onto, who you can relate to entirely on a personal level, in mainstream media.” Wendy laughed again. “I’ve prepared and rehearsed many versions of this speech. Can’t you tell?”

“That’s a really great answer.” Marinette said. “A really important answer. It’s amazing that you came all the way to France for it.”

“I only had three options, as nothing is really happening down under. It was going to be New York, which would have been much easier with the English, but the first job I got, the one I actually flew out of Sydney for, was in France. Immediately after, this brand interested in working with me happened to be based in London. So now I go back and forth between there and Paris. Adrien was one of the few people willing to put up with my bumbling French during this one advertising campaign I did, which is how we became friends.”

“I couldn’t imagine moving so far away,” Marinette confessed. “I guess I got really lucky, wanting to work in fashion and being from Paris. I get to go to the school of my dreams and see my parents regularly. Although from what I heard, the school may see more nightmarish than dream-like most of the time.”

“But would you have done it?” Wendy asked. “Move across the world for fashion?”

Marinette would have said no because of Ladybug, and how the city truly was the center of mass around which her world spun, but she couldn’t reveal the superhero bit. What if Ladybug weren’t a consideration? Marinette tried to imagine herself at fourteen again, before she had found a certain pair of earrings and learned about gods and magic and akuma. Would she have been willing to move across the equator to chase a dream? “Completely.”

Marinette stood up, which Wendy took as her cue to stand up as well. The girls continued their small-talk during the fitting.

\--

 

The second shadow-fox monster activated in the fourth week of September. This one, Ladybug noted dully from the roof of the building where she waited, roared. The fox monster released ear-splitting cries as its large, shadowy paws padded across the streets. Ladybug leapt from her vantage point and swung her yo-yo forward to coil around the creature’s neck like a collar before she realized with a pang of dread that there was no bright gleam of orange at the creature’s throat.

The fox thrashed its head and Ladybug held tight as she retracted her yo-yo string. The wind howled in her ears as she was flung upward. By timing when she extended the string and let it go slack, she was able to land on the creature’s back. She braced her knees as if on the back of a horse and grabbed at her own yo-yo strings with one hand. She flattened herself against the fox and examined her surroundings as if watching a video feed of an incredibly shaky camera.

The place looked expensive. The streets were well kept and the parks made up large expanses of green across the neighborhood. The green was particularly striking against the gray overcast. As far as she could see, cars had been abandoned as civilians cleared off the streets. She felt her com vibrate and reached for it with the hand that wasn’t preoccupied with preventing her from being rocketed more than ten meters in the air off the nightmare of a mechanical bull she was currently riding.

It was a call from Celeste to the entire group, but Alya’s face was what she saw on the screen. “You guys are right near the harbor,” Alya shouted, though Marinette could hardly hear through the wind. “Draw it to the water, where there’ll be less people.”

“Celeste, can you give us an aerial view of how LB can get to the harbor?” Chat Noir asked as he was taking a few lagging civilians and some idiots preoccupied with their smartphones to safety.

“Will do,” Celeste said. Ladybug saw a blur of movement through Celeste’s third of the com and then herself, as a speck of red on a giant fox composed entirely of shadows. The harbor was less than fifteen blocks, towards 2:30.

“Honeycomb!” Honeybee’s shout was audible. The glow of yellow light, even more noticeable. Ladybug pushed herself upright to scan her surroundings, then quickly flattened herself into the fox’s fur again.

“Nice thinking, HB,” Ladybug said. Walls of yellow light closed her off at both sides and from behind. The barricade resembled thin, colored glass with a motif of honeycombs faintly glowing in a darker orange color. The walls were only slightly taller than the fox, but the akuma was boxed in so tightly at the sides that it had no room to turn or jump. Even wagging its tail caused it contact with the too-warm light. Spooked, it charged the only direction it could go: forward.

“Shoot!” Ladybug heard Celeste not far behind her as well as through the coms. “There are civilians in the path, trapped.”

“I’m too far away and a little busy at the moment,” Chat Noir said. “Stop video recording, sir!” Garbled Danish was heard in the background. “I’ll get to the harbor as quickly as I can,” he added just as Honeybee spoke.

“You know I can’t move while I’m keeping this wall up,” she said. “I’m also stuck leaning against someone’s chimney.”

“I’ll handle the civilians.” Ladybug released the string of her yo-yo quickly enough to have possibly caused some serious rope burn around the akuma’s neck. Some fur even started to smoke. The fox halted, but found it couldn’t step back because Honeybee had made the back wall slide forward with the fox’s movement, like a room closing in on itself. Ladybug was thrown back from the halt, hit the wall with her feet so that she was, for the briefest moment, completely parallel with the ground, and propelled herself forward. In midair she latched her yo-yo string around the fox’s neck again and threw herself off the creature’s head and to her right, over the barrier of light and onto some adjoining rooftops.

She reached the first civilian in under a minute, a brunette girl in her twenties, on her bike and, to her credit, still pedaling forward. Ladybug jumped from where she was, into the crevice formed by Honeycomb, and forced herself, the girl, and her bike up. She deposited the girl in the nearest alleyway on the other side of the wall. The girl said something in rapid fire Danish before muttering her thanks in English as Ladybug took off.

_How many more civilians are stuck?_ Ladybug thought. _I need a way to speed the rescue up._ She timed her jump back onto the crevice to land on the fox’s back again.

“Four more civilians, including a kid,” Celeste said from what Ladybug guessed was still an aerial view. “There is a right turn coming up.”

Ladybug braced herself as she swung three loops of her yo-yo around the akuma’s neck again. This time she dangled close to the ground like an unwanted charm. “HB, create a door for civilians in the back!” Ladybug shouted into her com. She caught the next person, a middle-aged man around the waist and pushed him back, so the fox’s underbelly quickly passed over his head. A quick look back told her Honeybee had done as requested, and an opening the size of double doors was now a permanent fixture of the advancing back wall.

Ladybug did the same thing for the next two catches, one of which was a father holding a small child, which made four civilians total.

“The way is completely clear for the harbor,” Celeste said as Ladybug dropped down and released her yo-yo for the final time. The underbelly of the akuma loomed overhead like a storm cloud for a few seconds before Ladybug felt the plane of light with a doorway cutout pass her.

Ladybug saw the walls of light fade once the fox had run headfirst into the ocean.

“I see the shard! It’s in the left ear.” The voice was Chat’s, but not the static-filled one from a com. It was his, loud and clear.

Ladybug looked up and had to resist laughing. Celeste was flying using his staff, and Chat Noir had his hands around Celeste’s ankles, dangling from the other miraculous user. They landed a few paces closer to the harbor than where Ladybug was with as much grace as could be expected.

“Flying with the extra weight is really disorienting,” Celeste muttered.

“I don’t even want to do that again if I can help it, Blue,” Chat Noir agreed. “Cats weren’t meant to fly.”

The trio ran for the harbor where the fox was thrashing around, stunned, and making a wreck of the docks. The stormy, gray afternoon meant the harbor was empty.

“I say we throw the akuma across the sea and just make it Sweden’s problem,” Chat Noir joked. “Denmark, saved.”

“Chat…” Ladybug looked pointedly at Chat Noir, unamused.

“Cataclysm,” Chat Noir said as a boat was flung in their direction with an incoming wave that formed from a whip of the fox’s tail.

The boat rusted away as Ladybug caught sight of the glint of orange in the akuma’s ear, as Chat Noir had mentioned, and a flash of movement behind her. It was Alya and Honeybee. Honeybee had probably used her whip to get herself through the streets as fast as possible and picked up Alya along the way. Alya had her camera out. Ladybug sensed the shadow of an incoming wave and ran for the pair. She swung her yo-yo in circles fast enough to be a shield in front of them, and Honeybee had the same idea, her whip like a helicopter propeller overhead. They been pushed only a few steps back by that wave when they heard another shout.

“Wind tunnel!” Celeste aimed his staff, and the fox squirmed as the shard shifted out of its ear, until it dangled at the edge like a piercing, and dropped. The water levels rose again with the giant animal moving around, but not enough to create a threatening wave. Celeste caught the shard as it fell, and tossed it to Ladybug.

Ladybug leapt forward and clamped both hands over it. She dropped the shard into her yo-yo. “De-evilize.” A swarm of ladybugs blasted into the sky as Marinette picked the cleansed shard out of her yo-yo and clenched her hand around it.

Alya stopped recording and put her phone away. Tikki’s magic had fixed whatever wreckage had resulted from the akuma, but Alya was still dripping wet and shivering in her T-shirt and jeans. None of them had realized how much colder Copenhagen would be than Paris. “Great job, but I say you all scram and de-transform before the people start coming,” Alya suggested. “Meet me at Østerport Station in an hour or so.”

The four miraculous users promptly vanished. Marinette spent the next hour regretting not having worn a heavier jacket (she never had problems with cold or hot weather in the Ladybug suit) and getting lost even with the help of Google Maps. Apparently, she had launched herself all the way to Christianshavn before de-transforming out of sight. Luckily, her phone plan worked for all of Europe, and she was able to contact Adrien. He told her to stay put near a landmark. She’d stumbled across a neat looking church and a nearby metro station, before finding a canal. She waited on one side of the bridge near the canal. On the pavement of the bridge, the name “Sankt Annæ Gade” was painted in neat white letters. Adrien found her in ten minutes because, Marinette suspected, he had transformed back.

The buildings of Copenhagen were more spaced-out than those of Paris. There were a lot of bikes and cars among the construction. Neat rows of buildings, all five stories tall, were pressing together, side-by-side, so that alleyways were practically nonexistent. Entrances to the courtyards of the blocks of houses were marked by intricate iron gates dispersed among storefronts. The pair walked along O2, which Marinette inferred to be the touristy shopping area. She was tempted to go in to a café for a warm drink, but realized she had no Danish Krone on her.

“We might want to figure out the whole currency exchange thing next time,” she said to Adrien as he glanced longingly at a bakery they passed. When had all of them last ate? It took them less than an hour to get to Copenhagen from Paris using the labyrinth, but they had tried very hard to time their arrival, and evitable activation of the akuma, with Alya’s train which was fourteen god-forsaken hours of her entire weekend one-way. They had ended up waiting for a bit, even though Alya had left the night before. Marinette realized the four of them hadn’t eaten since their late Sunday breakfast.

They walked to the station at a brisk pace, still shaking, half from adrenaline, and half from the cold. However, they giggled and whispered among themselves the whole way back. They hadn’t realized they had been holding hands for what must have been most of the walk until Alya commented on it with a smirk.

Alya, who was tired of riding trains, informed them in the group chat that she planned to head back to Central Station, where there were shuttles to the airport. She used her frequent flier miles to book a flight that would get her to Paris in 2 hours. However, she wanted to see the door to their convenient, magical labyrinth first, even if she couldn’t use it. For that reason, she was waiting at Østerport.

“It looks like a plain dirt tunnel,” Alya said as she munched on some bratwurst. She had been smart enough to exchange money at the station, and had bought the snack at a food stand. The others had declined her offer to buy them food. “I was kind of expecting like, decorations or something. I wonder what happens if I try to enter.” Alya approached the doorway cautiously, stepped forward, but jolted back as if hit by an invisible barrier. She put a hand out toward the space of the doorway, and was pressing firmly against something.  “It feels like a brick wall,” she remarked curiously.

They said their goodbyes and left through the tunnel, getting back to Paris before 6PM. Alya got back to the city in time for dinner. She updated the blog and sent them a group message on the way back from Charles de Gaulle.

 

**[Alya Césaire @ 21h39]**

**Strangest thing: when the 4 of you were with me, I could see the entryway just fine. Once all of you had entered the labyrinth, it merely looked like a brick wall to me. It was like the tunnel hadn’t existed in the first place. I got the BIGGEST headache trying to remember why I had been there at all. I tried calling after you guys, but you obviously couldn’t hear. In fact, you all might as well have vanished.**


	10. Opposing Human Theatre

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's like they almost have a routine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don’t superhero teams get breaks from time to time? Time skips or hiatuses. Nail biting waits for news of whether or not there would be a season 2? Or am I just watching too much anime and cartoons?  
> Enjoy the chapter! I'll try to get more up soon. Thanks for all the love and support.

By the time November rolled around, Marinette had long settled into the school routine and environment. The 9AM to 6PM school day, which was far longer than anything she had to go through before, passed quickly as she immersed herself in her school projects. The history class was the most similar to her classes in _lycée._ It was lecture-based, and the topic was interesting enough that Marinette found that as long as she put effort into studying for the quarterly tests, she would be fine. Design fundamentals and draping relied on individual projects for grades. Design fundamentals was gearing its students towards the basics of a visual portfolio which Madame Fabre explained they would continue to work on during the second semester. Draping was starting to pick up speed as rumor was, they would have to make a gown of their own design for the final project.

It was the group project in their patternmaking class that had Marinette nervous. First, patterning had never been her strength, although she appreciated the challenge. Next, their instructor wanted the groups of four to create a mini-collection with eight “looks.” They had to lay out clear patterns for every piece they included, which made too-intricate eveningwear unpractical for the assignment. The instructor had even said the project would look more “commercial” than their other ones. Marinette was grouped with Willa, Juan, and Valerie. They were collectively dubbed “the babies” by the rest of the class. Juan was adamant about men’s wear not getting enough attention in high fashion, so they planned on making four women’s looks, and four men’s looks. Although, with the way things were going, every look was going to turn out androgynous, which made it all the more interesting.

Marinette was in charge of a loose-fitting thin sweater and a pin-striped vest with a hood and pink lining. They technically had until after New Year’s to complete the project, but Marinette wanted to be done with all of her school work before winter break arrived. Her holiday was hers, and she wanted three weeks of thinking of anything but school assignments. Her summer internship had given her a fairly good idea of how fast a month could go, and how deadlines have a way of sneaking up on you, so Marinette was prepping stuff for all three of her projects far in advance.  Her group members reacted less warmly to the idea.

“What are you, a robot?” Juan asked. “We’ve got time, even if it means coming in on weekends toward the end.”

Except Marinette did not have that particular privilege. Her weekends were booked solid for a while, with galas she promised to attend that Adrien couldn’t get out of, making gowns for those events, shifts at the bakery, and superhero stuff. The group had known her to all but disappear over the weekends. In her third identity she was visiting her parents or always out of town for one reason or another. “Maybe I am a robot,” Marinette said. “I’ll do my bit as early as I want to, then.”

In a show of support, Willa helped Marinette draw up a schedule for their group project, with rough deadlines for certain garments. In trying to follow the schedule, Marinette had a foreboding feeling that, toward the end of the month, she might have to pick up others’ slack.

Valerie had an idea for slacks with suspenders. In her sketch, they had interesting side pockets, but Valerie had trouble figuring out the pattern, and was lazy about everything else.

“Valerie, you were supposed to finish the base yesterday,” Marinette said into the second week of November when she noticed Willa was scrambling to finish it all herself. Willa had finished her bomber jacket early. She had mentioned to Marinette that morning that she’d wanted to start on the skirt for her second look. Then, they’d walked into the studio to see Valerie’s work unfinished.

“I tried,” Valerie huffed. “It was a lot.”

“It’s a white T-shirt,” Marinette shot back.

Valerie scoffed. “Well I don’t see why we have to make one in the first place. We know what one looks like. I want to get to the real projects.”

Juan cut in. “It’s a part of your real project, so you better make one unlike anything in the market right now.”

Valerie scowled, but instead of replying, grabbed the shirt off the table and went to her machine.

Marinette went out once more for drinks with her classmates. Willa, it seemed, had picked up on the British drinking there, and Juan was an enabler. Valerie tagged along this time. Marinette was having two separate conversations with Alya and Adrien during her time out. Adrien was at home, studying and half-heartedly complaining to Marinette about how he would rather be working through his replay of Kingdom Hearts 2. Due to lack of backward compatibility, Adrien had a respectable collection of consoles in his room, and had decided to dust off his PS2 last weekend. He also had two tests coming up. Alya was chilling with her laptop on some rooftop she’d requested Celeste bring her to. His patrol was over, but Alya mentioned spotting Honeybee a couple of times as she circled Paris.

 

**[Alya Césaire @ 23h09]**

**Have I mentioned how much I love that y’all have superpowers I get to reap the benefits from? Girl, I love ya.**

 

Marinette assumed Alya was writing at the same time. Alya was always writing, either for school or for her blog.

 

**[Alya Césaire @ 23h11]**

**Going to get a short video interview from B for the blog. Once she fixes her hair, even though I insist there is MAGIC keeping it neat.**

**[Alya Césaire @ 23h12]**

**I think you may be the only hero of the lot who isn’t a diva.**

**Okay, I have to give CN some credit. He’s only like half a diva.**

 

As Marinette was reading the text, Willa spoke to her. “You are very smiley. Who are you texting?”

Marinette looked up. “Just some friends,” she said. “I went to a really small school, and I’ve known a lot of my friends from kindergarten. Which I am just now realizing isn’t a normal thing, talking to you guys.” Marinette tapped her phone as it notified her about another message. “Most of my classmates from _lycée_ are in Paris and many went to the same university. I am the only one at _L'ECSCP_ ,” she said.

“I should hope so,” Valerie said after she set down her half-empty mug of beer. “This program is very selective. There are hardly two people from the same school when it is an art & design school, much less a regular high school. I should know, I went to an arts school.”

“Ooh, know anyone famous?” Juan asked. He must have not been serious, because he blanched when Valerie answered in the affirmative.

Valerie rolled her eyes. “One of the theatre kids always ends up famous,” she said. “Every year.”

Marinette was sure if she were asked that question, she would say no, even if it were a flat-out lie. She was forthcoming about the general aspects of Françoise-Dupont when asked. The night turned into the four of them describing the various school systems they were entered in, and what life had been like for them in high school. Marinette said her experience had been fine, everyone knew each other, and she had a solid group of friends. Juan said school in Spain started at 9AM, which Marinette thought was totally unfair. The thought of _lycée_ being two years (in Juan’s case) or involving what Willa described as “tertiary education” was baffling, but interesting. The conversation shifted to Juan describing the requirements of his arts concentration, and comparing notes with Valerie’s. In that time Adrien informed Marinette that he was going to sleep, and Alya sent her a mid-air selfie of her being brought down from the roof with Honeybee’s help. Marinette deleted the picture as soon as she’d seen it. There would be some awkward questions if her classmates saw it, and Marinette was sure at least one of them was sober enough that she couldn’t pass it off as a visual hallucination.

Juan wanted to go shopping the next morning, which Willa and Valerie agreed to.

“I’m sorry, but I already have plans for the weekend,” Marinette said.

“Oh, yes, yes,” Juan said, his words slurring slightly. “Miss grew-up-in-Paris has other friends, yes. She is not lonely at all.”

“I also have parents I am close to, who like me to visit,” she said neutrally. It was true. She wasn’t lying. She really did hate lying, although she had gotten quite good at it.

“Oh, don’t rub it in. I miss my brothers so much,” Willa lamented. She had told Marinette about her three younger brothers, the oldest of whom were still in what was Trinidad’s equivalent of high school.

They got to talking about their families, and it looked like they weren’t planning on leaving anytime soon, so Marinette excused herself. Getting home was no harder than usual because she had drunk about two sips of beer. Her classmates might have thought of her as a spoilsport or a bit dull, but Marinette didn’t care. She would be running errands all day tomorrow. Then Saturday evening would come. It would be an adventure, she told herself, because if she thought too deeply about it, the fear would set in.

\--

 

They were cloaked in a darkness none had expected. The sun had set in Paris sometime before 7:30 PM. They had not left the city until a little after 8PM, when it was already dark but the City of Lights was true to its name, especially compared to Moscow, where street lights were evidently much scarcer.

“How is it 1AM here?” Honeybee exclaimed. Her face, circlet and mask included, was illuminated by the blue-white light of her phone. “It only took us like two hours to walk to Tibet.”

“Yeah, but we didn’t get lost that time,” Celeste said.

“We wandered through some extra tunnels, but Bee is right, it felt like way less than six hours,” Chat Noir said.

“How do you have your phone with you?” Ladybug asked.

Honeybee scoffed. “Please. I always have my phone with me. Trick is to not have it on hand when you transform. Okay, GPS says we’re somewhere in the middle of the Moscow Zoo. Any sign of—

“Right there.” Chat Noir pointed at a spot, but it was too dark for anyone else to see normally, much less spot a creature made literally of shadows. “It’s smaller this time. Maybe the size of a large dog? Follow it! C’mon.”

The miraculous users who did not have night vision did their best to keep up for a few minutes by following the sound of his footsteps. Now the bell on his collar was also surprisingly useful, even if it did spook the animals. Then, Chat Noir made a sudden stop by the kangaroos and veered left.

“There’ll be security at the main gates,” Ladybug pointed out.

“I know,” Chat Noir said. “That’s why we’re leaving through this exit. To Volpina, the zoo is going to seem like a giant cage eventually, and it’s going to want out. Cataclysm!”

The ball of destructive energy struck the outside gates between the monkey and kangaroo cages. Both groups of animals were peering at them curiously, but the monkeys were only just starting to kick up a fuss. “It’s still running parallel to us. This way.” Chat Noir darted right.

“Hey, wait!” Ladybug shot her yo-yo out so it looped and clinched at Chat’s waist like a second belt. She passed the string back to Celeste and then Honeybee, leaving ample room in between so they could run easily. It may have seemed childish: three costumed figures lead along by a string that served a similar function to a child leash, but Ladybug couldn’t have cared less if it got them to the akuma faster. She wasn’t sure how the Russian government would respond to Chat blowing a hole in their public zoo, even if no animals were harmed or released in the process.

Following the akuma was a straight shot down _Malaya Nikitskaya_ , which turned into _Bolshaya Nikitskaya_ Street, which they only knew because Honeybee’s phone was still out with the GPS function enabled. It was a godsend considering Celeste’s aerial views wouldn’t have done them much good at the moment, and none of them could read Russian.

Chat Noir made a sharp right turn and ran down two more blocks before cutting across a city square. He stopped as they turned the corner of a building. “Two things.” He turned as the rest of the team gathered behind him. “The akuma just went inside that building, and I’m about to de-transform.”

“GPS says the building is the Bolshoi Theatre, which means it might be empty now, but it definitely has security.” Honeybee said.

Ladybug looked at Celeste just as Chat Noir de-transformed. “Rooftop, now.” Her words were more a command than a suggestion. Celeste swung his staff and grabbed Adrien by the waist first. Honeybee was lifted up next, and by the time Ladybug reached the roof, Adrien was feeding Plagg cheese. He transformed into Chat Noir again.

“How are we going to get in?” Chat Noir asked. “All the windows are probably closed and locked, and the building is old. We’re not going to find a rooftop entrance. I can try using Catacylsm again, but it’s going to suck for me.”

“No, no,” Ladybug said quickly. “Mother Russia probably wants you to destroy as few national landmarks as possible while you’re here, even if Tikki’s powers will fix it later.”

“Then you’re going to hate my idea, which is cutting a hole through a window with my staff,” Celeste said. “If we jump from here, we should be able to make the jump to that lower level okay, and the horse statues should hide us for the most part.”

“Like anyone’s out at 1AM,” Honeybee said.

“If anyone is out, they’re probably bad news for us,” Marinette said as she made the leap. The others followed. Celeste made quick work of carving an opening through the nearest window. It started out as a curve that could turn into a circle, or at least an oval, but with the shape at the end, everyone was just grateful they didn’t cut themselves on glass climbing in.

A quick gleam with Honeybee’s phone, which doubled as a flashlight, let them know they had broken into a basic practice room, with hard wood floors and a piano in one corner. The door was locked, so Celeste cut another opening. Once they were all out in the hallway, Honeybee turned off her phone and pocketed it. They didn’t want to push their luck with security, and shining a phone through an empty, dark theatre was bound to get them noticed.

“How are we going to find the akuma?” Ladybug whispered.

“This place is bound to be a maze I’ll get lost in, even with night vision,” Chat Noir said.

Suddenly, Marinette tensed. “It’s Tikki. She’s talking to me again, somehow.”

“Are you going to start glowing again because that would be, uh, bad,” Nino hissed.

“She says that kwami can sense each other.” Ladybug’s voice was barely audible, and everyone bent their heads closer to hear. Chat Noir and Celeste actually collided heads briefly, which caused them both to wince. “If I channel her energy—not quite an invocation—and let her take over a bit more than usual, I should be able to sense where Volpina is. Tikki says you all should also be able to do it without much trouble.”

“I vote we test that theory in a less high-risk situation,” Celeste said.

Marinette closed her eyes. _Focus on your sense of touch. The draft through the window. The wood at your feet._ Tikki guided her. _Now think, like you would while figuring out how to use a lucky charm. Open your mind._ The shard from Volpina’s pendant emitted an energy Ladybug could sense. She could almost picture its orange light struggling to shine through the shadows. Ladybug’s eyes flew open.

“I know where Volpina is.” She ran down the hallway, and felt for a door that led down the stairs. As she ran, it was like the shard was beckoning her, mapping the fastest way through the building for her like laying out breadcrumbs. The others shuffled behind her as quickly as possible.

“FYI, your eyes are glowing,” Honeybee pointed out. “Like Chat’s do usually, only they’re red, not green.”

_Interesting,_ Marinette thought. She hadn’t noticed any difference.

They ran down flights of stairs until they reached the first floor. She turned down the hallway and to a door that was unlocked. It opened to one of the box seats, a level above the main stage and ground floor. Ladybug supposed it made sense that the doors to the boxes were left unlocked because they were so detached from everything else, and nothing valuable was there except the upholstery. “Volpina’s jumping around the right orchestra,” Ladybug said.

“I see it,” Chat Noir said. He whipped out his baton and jumped off the ledge of the box.

“The shard is in the front right paw,” Ladybug said. She could feel it darting around Chat Noir, but moving with a slight limp, always reluctant to put weight on the paw with the shard.

“Lucky Charm!” A piece of Velcro dropped into Ladybug’s hands. “What am I supposed to do with this?”

“It keeps moving around,” Chat Noir called, his voice echoing up into the stands. “I can’t catch it.”

“This is ridiculous,” Honeybee muttered. She took out her phone again and shone the light broadly across the room. It must have spooked the akuma. The shadowy fox figure darted for the stage. “Honeycomb!” Bee shouted.

With a crack of her whip, deep gold light shot out. It bound the akuma up by its back limbs. The ribbons of gold then sunk into the stage, holding the fox in place. Ladybug let go of Tikki’s energy as they now had a light source. Honeycomb illuminated the room like a star on top of a Christmas tree. From where they were standing in the box, they could just make out the pulsing orange shard whenever the fox’s paw was angled properly.

“Throw the Velcro,” Celeste said.

“What?”

“Wind Tunnel,” Celeste continued without explaining further. Ladybug threw the Velcro and leapt down to the ground floor from the box. By the time she reached the stage, the fox’s paws had been caught in the Velcro and kept there by the force of the Wind Tunnel.

Ladybug reached through the sharp force of wind to grab the fox’s paw. The shard poked out like a splinter, but was still lodged in. Ladybug opened her yo-yo and pressed the surprisingly soft, furry paw into its glow of white light as she felt Wind Tunnel being released.

“De-evilize,” she said. The shadow fox dissolved away until all that remained was the pendant’s fragment, which stayed in the yo-yo. Ladybug picked up the Velcro as she stood and was about to throw it up when Chat Noir’s ears turned out.

“Someone’s coming,” he warned. The four propelled themselves up with their respective weapons. Celeste and Ladybug were in the box where they originally entered. Honeybee and Chat Noir were in the corresponding box across the auditorium. Bee released Honeycomb, and they were left in the dark again. Everyone ducked down under the cushioned seats.

A security guard walked in and called out in Russian. Marinette could hear the padding of his footsteps as he slowly made his way around the theatre and shone his flashlight every-which way. The footsteps got louder, then quieter. Once the door shut with a loud _clang_ Chat Noir and Honeybee leapt across the auditorium to join Ladybug and Celeste in their box.

“Let’s high-tail it before he decides to check the other levels.” Chat Noir led them down the hall and back up the stairs until they reached the locked door with the very recognizable hole cut through it. In retrospect, perhaps it was better that the security guard had interrupted when he did.

Once they were back on the roof hiding behind the statues, Ladybug tossed the Velcro in the air. “Miraculous Ladybug!”

As the swarm of Ladybugs repaired the property damage they had caused, everyone but Chat Noir de-transformed, having used their superpower.

“Great,” Nino said as his teeth chattered. “W-we still have to get to the l-ley line. Is there one nearby _not_ inside the now closed-off zoo?” He looked at Chat Noir, who was the only one who could still feel the lines.

“There’s one by the Red Square if we head towards the water,” Chat said.

“It would be great if the ladybugs also messed with the security footage of us,” Marinette tried to focus on unwrapping a piece of chocolate and a small package of two Japanese-style orange chocolate instead of the cold. The snacks were broken or slightly melted from sitting in her pockets all day, but they were technically sweets, and she needed to re-transform. Tikki didn’t complain about the snacks. Once they started running, they didn’t stop until they were back in the Labyrinth.

\--

 

At certain rooms in the Labyrinth, Marinette had had the idea to stock human snacks. It was also where they had dumped their bags earlier, and although she wouldn’t eat cheese or mochi left out in the sun for too long, the perishables were probably okay in dark underground tunnels for a few hours. It was now basic procedure to stuff the pockets of their civilian clothes with bits of their kwami’s recharge food before they transformed. For the girls, it meant wearing clothes with adequate pockets. The food often ended up a little squished, and Duusuu’s flowers, a bit wilted, but it was effective. Back in the Labyrinth, the miraculous users made due with granola bars.

This time, they made sure to double and triple check the map, and consult it before making any turns. They only had to backtrack once, which was an improvement. It felt like they only walked for about an hour and, perhaps it was the Labyrinth distorting their circadian rhythms, but none of them felt tired.

“It’s 5AM here, and in Paris,” Chloé said when she turned on her phone again. She sounded like she was regretting agreeing to go after two akuma in one night. Marinette didn’t blame her. They had headed to Budapest from Moscow. The Labyrinth spat them out across the street from a metro station labeled _Hősök Tere_. This early in the day it was still dark, and next to no cars were on the streets yet. The group ducked in the shadow of a closed newsstand a few meters away and all transformed.

_Hősök Tere_ was a monument of two colonnades curved around a column topped with a greenish statue of an archangel. Various other grandiose statues decorated the square. The monument was flanked by two buildings of similar Roman architecture, though one was white and the other, a sepia-toned orange. Given the time and how it was no longer tourist season, Ladybug hoped the square stayed empty for as long as possible.

The four of them dispersed across the top of the colonnades, keeping the statues and the pigeons company. The dim street lights cast lost shadows around the square. Ladybug had counted to one hundred once, and then to forty-five when she heard a screech, and heavy footsteps made the ground shake.

“I liked them when they were smaller.” Celeste words were audible to everyone through their open coms. By the time the akuma got to the square, several people who lived nearby had opened their windows curiously and grabbed their phones for a multitude of reasons if they weren’t panicking. The four heroes leaped down immediately, and started baiting the creature from four different directions.

“Do you see the shard anywhere?” Chat Noir asked. Ladybug wasn’t sure if she was hearing him through the coms or not. She vaulted up to avoid the akuma’s sweeping tail and softened her landing by catching the column with her yo-yo and using the string to guide her fall.

“You’re the one with the night vision, dude!” A sharp howl of wind accompanied Celeste’s words.

“I haven’t spotted anything,” Chat Noir responded.

Ladybug retracted her yo-yo and catapulted herself up until she was hanging by the side of the column, her feet planted and her body out at a forty-five-degree angle. “I don’t see a shard either,” she said.

They all heard the sirens before Ladybug saw the incoming police car, and an armored tank in the mix. “Also, anyone know Hungarian?” Ladybug continued to scan the akuma. No luck spotting the shard. She attempted it, but quickly realized she did not have enough concentration to channel Tikki while trying to keep her balance a dozen meters in the air. Ladybug winced as the akuma knocked over two statues and the columns between them while avoiding one of Celeste’s attacks.

Honeybee cracked her whip so that it wrapped around the creature’s left hind leg. “Honeycomb!” The golden light revealed the shadows of the fox to be not just black, but a multitude of layers of rich dark grays and blues. The new light source also allowed the other three miraculous users to check and confirm they hadn’t seen the shard.

Honeybee ran to the approaching police. The men were in full gear, with their shields were out, but not attacking. “Do you speak French?” She asked in French, then tried again in French-accented English. “English?”

Ladybug lowered herself to the ground and retracted her yo-yo. She tried channeling Tikki’s energy again. A shard had to be there. She knew the vibe it gave off like she was familiar with the energy that pulsed from the akuma. Like what she felt when she was holding Volpina’s pendant in her hands that one, final time. It was like holding fireworks.

“Holy crap,” Ladybug said. Which, thanks to the coms, everyone picked up on. Ladybug held her yo-yo closer, even though all she could see from everyone else’s coms was the fight at shaky angles. “The shard is in its stomach. Not the underbelly or the fur, but actually in its stomach.” Ladybug paused. “Celeste, how much manipulation do you have over Wind Tunnel?”

The response was garbled and rushed. “Why?”

Ladybug ran over to him and whispered the plan into his ear.

“YOU’RE INSANE,” he shouted as they both veered off to the side to dodge the akuma swiping at them with one of its paws.

“But it might work if I’m lucky enough.” There was a challenge in her voice, which Celeste acknowledged.

Meanwhile, after passing the request among the police and Hungarian military defense force, they found someone who spoke fluent English and another who spoke not-nearly-as-fluent French, and along with Honeybee, the three of them were making headway on how to respond. The world had heard of Paris’ heroes and trusted them, to some extent.

“We can contain the creatures here,” Honeybee said in French, and then repeated the sentence in English. She repeated the process with every sentence, and the two officers deciphered the meaning in Hungarian. “It will end quickly. Keep civilians away. These fights never last more than 23 minutes anyway.”

“Lucky Charm.”

A perfume bottle dropped from the sky, and instead of wondering what to do with it, Ladybug uncapped it and splashed herself with it immediately. She was sure Tikki understood her plan. She ran up to the fox, who was sniffing at her attentively, as if she were a bunny rabbit or mouse.

“Wind Tunnel!” Celeste shouted. Ladybug felt herself rise as she was enveloped in a sphere of wind. Then, as the fox swallowed her whole, there was darkness.

Honeybee, and the rest of the police force, turned around and gasped in horror at the sight of Ladybug eaten. Honeybee spoke in a shaking but stern voice. “Keep the shields up. Plan hasn’t changed. Akuma doesn’t leave the square.” She took a few steps back from the police, and was about to turn and run when she froze.

Chat Noir, Honeybee, and Celeste heard a buzz of static, and then a voice on the com. “Blue, keep the sphere going until I’m out. Chat, go from the underbelly and hit the stomach with cataclysm.”

Chat hit more than just the stomach. He had Honeybee toss him across the underside with the crack of her whip, and Chat hit everything. The creature cried as it was essentially ripped in half. The sphere of wind protected Ladybug from the blow of Cataclysm, although the wind dissolved on impact and Ladybug found herself freefalling. She watched the shard glitter in front of her within reach and made a grab for it. She prepared to do a one-armed forward roll upon impact even before her hands clenched around the shard. The roll sucked for her shoulders and back, but at least the hand holding the shard was intact. Once her momentum slowed, Ladybug got up. When she placed the shard in the yo-yo she was still in a slight daze.

“De-evilize.” Ladybug tossed the empty perfume bottle in the air. “Miraculous Ladybug.”

As the ladybugs swarmed across the sky and the pain in her shoulders and back subsided, arms enveloped her in a bone-crushing hug. It was Chat, burying his face in her neck. “Nino’s right. You’re insane. Don’t ever do that again.”

Ladybug patted his back. “It’s alright Kitty. We’re alright.” She detangled herself from Chat and turned to Celeste, who looked equal parts proud of himself and terrified, which Ladybug imagined must be the expression on her face. “Thanks, Celeste.”

Celeste put a hand on the back of his neck. “I didn’t think I could keep the Wind Tunnel up for that long without seeing what I was doing.”

They ran over to Honeybee, who wrapped her arms around Ladybug’s waist and lifted her up. “You almost gave me a heart attack.” She set Laybug down and turned to the two officers she had been conversing with. “Everything is fixed. The city is safe. The akuma is gone.”

Word got around and the police released their shields, then went on to inspect the damage. As the police dispersed, the press cars arrived.

“Just speak in French,” Honeybee whispered into Ladybug’s ear, pushing her forward to a female reporter in a purple suit.

Ladybug ignored whatever the reporter was asker her in English and spoke into the mic. “We are known as the heroes of Paris, but we go wherever the akuma attacks are to stop then. We will try our best to keep the world safe.”

“Right now, we do have to return to Paris though,” Honeybee added into the mic as she put an arm around Ladybug. Her circlet was blinking. They would all de-transform soon. Even with the cameras watching, they scattered. A large city park was a straight shot from behind the columns of the monument. The four of them hid wherever they could in the park, and circled around casually from there.

Marinette was properly dressed for the weather this time, having been wearing a peacoat when she transformed. It was a nice park, some part of her brain acknowledged weakly, but she couldn’t focus on it. All she could think about was the darkness she had been in a couple minutes earlier. The sound of Wind Tunnel forming a cocoon around her had been both reassuring and horrifying. She had felt claustrophobic surrounded by what was essentially a small tornado, while also scared of the bubble breaking. The only thing that kept her from going out of her mind was Tikki’s presence and, oddly enough, the presence of the shard. In that moment, the shard had been not just a target, but an anchor and a goal. Marinette forced herself to take deep breaths and count the trees. She stared at the architecture of the surrounding buildings, and the square behind her where they had just fought.

It had been an incredibly stupid idea, but she had trusted Celeste. Better what she did, than drawing out the fight for longer, and someone actually getting hurt. It was all about courage at the end, wasn’t it? About not being afraid of getting minor cuts and bleeding a little for their goal.

_It’s going to be okay._ Marinette blinked. For a moment she felt warm wind surrounding her in the darkness. Then she was back in the middle of a city park, where an early morning jogger with their beagle was passing her. The runner must have come from the other side, and might not have even heard about the commotion at the square yet. _You’re going to make it okay,_ she thought to herself.

Eventually, they each reached the entrance to the Labyrinth where they had emerged from earlier as civilians. Once Nino, who was the last to make it in, arrived, they started walking back.

By the time they had returned to Paris, the sky was layers of pinks and purples of the sunrise. Projected onto the Eifel Tower were repeat runs of a reel from a Hungarian news channel, showing Honeybee talking, Ladybug getting eaten, Ladybug talking, and the four miraculous users fighting at various points.

It was nearly seven. The sun was up, and they were on TV.

 


	11. Ace (Part 1)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marinette keeps doing her thing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late update >.< Life got in the way.  
> I've got the latter chapters planned far in advance, and partially written, so I hope to be better about updating consistently in the future.

 

Ladybug stared into the camera of the phone Alya held up with the Louvre in the background. It was 1PM. She had been in Budapest hours ago. The world had been in a frenzy over the possibility of akuma attacks happening outside of Paris since Copenhagen. With the events of last night, the speculations had picked up again. Since the heroes denied having any social media (although a number of fake accounts had been created of them) and routinely refused interviews and press conferences from all news sources, Alya’s blog, as well as blasting public announcements were the only ways to contact the miraculous holders. The latter was like one-way calling from Paris’ side. The former had come to be a lot more reliable. As such, the world was waiting to see if Alya could get a hold of Ladybug, or any of the other three heroes, and get some answers.

Marinette had set up the meeting once they had exited the Labyrinth through Norte Dame and her mobile had service again. She had called Alya and told her she wanted to be the only one speaking, although the other three heroes would be there.

“Let’s go to a public place,” Alya had suggested. “I’m going to livestream it, if that’s okay.”

Thus Marinette, as Ladybug, found herself facing Alya while Chat, Celeste, and Honeybee stood at her side. Passersby around the Lourve had spotted them quickly and came closer. The crowd formed a circle around them, as if they were street performers, and kept a respective distance away.

After catching a glance of the heroes Alya turned her phone so that she was the one talking into the camera.

“After news reports, eyewitness accounts, and video feed showing an akuma attack in Budapest very early this morning, it seems our heroes have returned to their native Paris,” Alya said. “Ladybug speaks now, as their representative. Ladybug, what do you have to say about recent events?”

“We will continue to do what we have always done, responding to akuma attacks as they occur,” Ladybug said. It was the same statement she had released a month ago, from Paris, after Copenhagen happened.

This time, Alya spoke while keeping the video feed on Ladybug. “I was lucky enough to be in Copenhagen just as the attack occurred,” she said smoothly. “I couldn’t catch you for an interview there, but I did ask you about the incident a few days later, when I ran into you in Paris. You said the same thing then. What about the fact that you may need to enter places outside of French or EU jurisdiction to stop the attacks, in the future?”

“We will stop the attacks and leave once the threat has been handled,” Ladybug said. “If you’re worried about the politics of it, we’re not trying to cause any trouble, only to help out.” Behind Alya, Ladybug saw the crowd do a great job of acting like a natural road block for the rest of the press. “Everyone thinks of us as Paris’ heroes, but we only appeared in Paris because the akuma appeared there first. The attacks seem to have expanded past the city, so that is where we will go.”

Alya locked eyes with Ladybug over her phone and asked the next question very carefully. “Do you have any idea why akuma have begun to appear in other cities?”

Ladybug blinked and shifted her gaze back to the camera. “That’s like asking why certain earthquakes occurred where they did when the entire country is earthquake prone.”

“Are you saying that the entire world is at risk? Were they always at risk? If so, why the sudden change?”

Ladybug swallowed. “You’re asking me questions I don’t know how to answer.” The words came out more flustered than she anticipated.

“Next question then,” Alya said quickly. “The last attack in Paris, and the attack in Copenhagen both saw akuma in the form of giant black foxes. The one in Budapest appeared that way as well. Do you have any idea why they’ve all become foxes whereas, previously, akuma were highly varied in appearance?”

Ladybug looked at the other heroes but, as they agreed, the rest of them remain silent, if sympathetic. _Why did I choose to be team leader?_ Ladybug thought with a sigh. She turned back to the camera. “My working theory is that something about the akuma changed. Instead of akumatizing people and using them as hosts we are now dealing with the raw energy of the akuma. It’s only a theory, though.”

“Interesting,” Alya said. “One more question. Do you know if another akuma attack will happen?”

Ladybug kept her voice steady and faced the camera directly. “No.” She met Alya’s brown eyes, which were calming, and much easier to look at than the phone. “I have no idea, Alya. But, if one does happen, we will respond as we always have.”

Alya cut the feed and pocketed her mobile. She gave a small nod, and the five of them broke off. Ladybug slipped passed the crowd and the press. She had learned that when you were a trusted vigilante with a brooding, irritated look on your face, people tended to step back and out of your way. Once she reached the other side of the street she made her way to the rooftops. Ladybug traveled a few blocks before she de-transformed. Once she was Marinette again, she checked her phone, which had a message from Chloé, instructing the group to meet in her suite.

Marinette bumped into Nino on the way there.

Marinette blurted out her question before thinking it through. “I didn’t make a terrible mess of Alya’s interview, did I?”

“Dude, relax,” Nino replied. “You were as honest as you could be. Good job taking one for the team.”

The weekend’s events hung over them like a storm cloud waiting to burst, so Marinette asked about how his gigs are going instead.

“I decided I like doing clubs more than festivals for sure,” Nino admitted. “Festivals always turn into raves, and they’re never much fun from the outside. Heck, they don’t look like they’d be much fun from the inside. Clubs though, especially the ones really famous for dance, are a blast.”

“Your job has all the fun stories,” Marinette teased as they reached Chloé’s building. They were seen by reception and directed to the elevator.

“Yeah, I guess,” Nino said. “The crowds are all the same after a while. I started an incident jar, did I tell you?”

“An incident jar?”

“For each gig. It’s a great way to save money.” Nino explained. “Two euros if a fight breaks out. Five euros if someone tries to climb on stage or go behind the booth. One euro if the equipment malfunctions. I had to stop that last one because I never had enough cash on me.”

“Imagine if we did that for patrols,” Mariette said. “One euro for every time someone stops you for a picture.”

“Two euros for each mugger you see retreat.”

They reached Chloé’s suite and explained the game to her. The three of them bounced ideas off each other briefly, before Nino got distracted by the very shiny stain-glass bowl full of chocolate truffles on Chloé coffee table, and Marinette watched the three kwami in the room interact with each other. Adrien showed up next. Then Sabrina, who had been incredibly worried, despite (or perhaps due in part to) knowing what had happened from the group chat. Sabrina gave everyone kisses on the cheek, and then helped herself to a chocolate truffle.

Alya was the last to reach the suite. In lieu of being able to get a statement from the heroes, the reporters had swarmed around her. They had asked her several questions, including how Paris’ heroes always talked to her, and what she thought about the turn of events. Alya had used it as an opportunity to shamelessly promote her blog. She explained there was an inquiry form set up on her blog, and she would post a reflective piece soon. As most news channels were more professional than the paparazzi, they let her go after she specified “no further questions.” For the sake of it, she walked into the metro station and rode it for a while before backtracking.

“I’m sorry about some of the questions I asked, Marinette,” Alya said once she walked through the door. “I knew you couldn’t really answer some of them, but I had to ask. They were the very obvious questions, and people would think it was fishy if I didn’t ask them.”

“It’s okay,” Marinette said. “I was a little surprised, is all.”

“What investigative journalist preps her interviewees?” Alya asked half-heartedly. “I didn’t warn you in advance because I wanted your reactions to be genuine, but I felt bad about it.”

“I understood why you did it,” Marinette reassured her.

Nino pipped up. “There are already rumors floating around about how you know us personally. If you hadn’t been as aggressive, those would have certainly gotten worse.”

Chloé had called them back to her suite just to hang out, it seemed. The combination of Moscow and Budapest was sinking in. The world seemed duller around them as their minds returned to specific events of the fight like they were anchors. Marinette kept recalling the darkness of being inside the akuma, and the force of wind tunnel surrounding her like a security blanket. The memory was mixed with the rush of sneaking around in the Russian theatre, down empty corridors and rooms that might as well have been a maze. She was used to the simultaneous, cluttered memories. They stacked in her brain like rolls of film of the movie she now accepted was her life. The same thing happened after every akuma attack. A similar thing happened with graduation, the going away party Balmain had thrown for the interns, and all the speeches she had to make as Ladybug.

Marinette realized it had been a while since all of them had been together, in one room, in a context that wasn’t searching for Volpina or talking about patrols. Chloé’s father’s schedule left her alone without his PA hanging over her shoulder, which was convenient for their gathering. The staff had gotten used to her extravagant, slightly strange orders of room service, which included daisies, red bean-filled mocha, chocolate chip cookies, and an entire roll of camembert this time. They chatted a bit about the akuma incidents, but the conversation quickly turned to more exciting things. Alya and Sabrina actually ended up doing their homework, while Marinette joined Adrien and Nino in playing Mario Kart. Chloé was their fourth player for two rounds before she got tired of losing and ditched them to paint her nails. Everyone got their nails painted that day for kicks, even though Adrien and Nino removed their varnish about twenty minutes later. Marinette did too, but only because she knew she would be lazy about removing it once it started chipping, and could potentially interfere with sewing projects.

“I had to get my nails painted for a shoot once,” Adrien said when it was evening and they were on their way home. They had ordered room service for dinner as well, as Chloé insisted and had never made an effort to hide that money was no object to her. “Gold glitter polish. It matched my eyeshadow.”

Marinette started laughing and then paused. “I think you just gave me an idea for what Wendy’s makeup will be for the presentation.”

Although the judging for the finalists had been relatively quick, the presentation for Koko Vita wouldn’t be until the last weekend of November, which was next week. The time in between was probably due to corporate shenanigans, Chloé had suggested, using more eloquent vocabulary. Marinette wasn’t questioning it. It gave her more time to prepare.

She’d hadn’t seen Wendy since their initial meeting, but Adrien had. Adrien recalled running into the brunette model at an industry event, where Wendy had asked about her.

(“Marinette is so nice! You better keep her, because I do want to see her a lot more,” Wendy had declared as she handed Adrien a glass of sparkling water.

Adrien had laughed. “I’m planning on it.”

“You get so happy just thinking about her. Oh, that’s adorable.”)

When Marinette walked into the workroom Monday morning, she was suddenly a lot more appreciative of how she spent yesterday afternoon, when her greatest worry had been the how to crush her friends as Link. (A playable character in the newer versions.) She was done with the sweater, and nearly done with the vest she had to make for her group project, but the pattern for the trousers were a bit tricky because she wanted to make the front pockets stick out a bit. Before she could start on it, Marinette walked in (only a minute late to class) to see Juan and Valerie arguing loudly over the denim.

Willa cast her a desperate look as she came over. “I’m not exactly sure what they are fighting about,” she whispered to Marinette. “Their French is too deep for me to understand.”

They were arguing about the denim machine, it sounded like, but Marinette felt awkward eavesdropping. “Just make sure to finish all your work,” Marinette said. “I’m sure they’ll sort it out.”

Fifteen minutes later, when Juan and Valerie were still at it, Marinette put down her piece of chalk and went over to them. “What’s the matter?” She asked. “The entire class is enjoying the show.”

“I need this specific denim for my piece, but Juan doesn’t want to use the same kind of statement cloth as me,” Valerie said with a scowl. “I’m saying it won’t matter, because I’m not using it as the statement piece, and for the record, neither is he.”

“Every article of clothing I make in this collection is going to be a statement piece,” Juan snarled. “I can’t say the same for you.”

“I can draw my patterns and fit them between his,” Valerie said. “It seems wasteful. Besides, fifty percent of this collection is the same black cotton being used, so why are so you touchy about the denim?”

“Because you should have bought your own!”

Marinette closed her eyes and started rubbing her temples. They needed to finish this project. She had a list of things to do today. “Once you’re completely done with the denim, why doesn’t you hand what’s left to Valerie, Juan?”

“You want to regulate me to scraps?!” Valerie exclaimed.

Willa stepped in and grabbed Marinette’s arm. She placed herself between Marinette and Valerie. “It’s a good idea, Valerie,” Willa said. “We happen to both have work to do, so if you don’t accept it, I’ll go King Solomon on your pampered self and just cut the denim into strips so that it’s not usable. Too bad we already used up the budget for the project. You can do whatever you were planning with the denim using the excess off the black cloth we have.” Before Valerie or Juan could reply, she dragged Marinette away.

Marinette went with Willa’s plan. She put her earbuds in, cranked the volume to the highest it would go without damaging her ears, and ignored everything happening in the room besides the work in front of her.

Marinette was recalling the project drama to Wendy when they met on Saturday for the presentation. Wendy understood that Marinette’s rambles were a way for her to channel her nervous energy. Wendy, in turn, told her of her own scheduling and booking nightmares. Adrien had a photoshoot that weekend. Because it was advertising season, his schedule was packed tight. He had left the house before Marinette had even woke up, but was messaging her on his breaks.

 

**[Adrien Agreste @ 07h56]**

**Photoshoot is boring, but they have cheese and crackers laid out, which means there won’t be any cheese left by the end of the day.**

**[Adrien Agreste @ 09h17]**

**Ran into Hale at the headquarters, but we’re not shooting the same campaign. It would have been nice to have a friend along.**

**Sort-of model friends. I guess they are my friends. I mean, I just agreed to eat lunch with him because we haven’t seen each other in ages.**

**[Adrien Agreste @ 09h18]**

**Wow. I just never thought that I would have this many friends.**

Of the nine finalists, four had gone and found models on their own. Wendy had seen one of them before at an open casting call but otherwise didn’t know any of them. The five who had just met their models were busy with alterations, but Marinette didn’t have that concern. When they had met last month, Marinette had made sure her design fit Wendy like a glove.

**[Marinette Dupain-Cheng @ 09h20]**

**The headquarters seems bigger somehow, even though there are more people than the last time I was here.**

**{Alya’s having a journalism crisis.}**

**[Marinette Dupain-Cheng @ 09h21]**

**Wendy’s a charm to work with, by the way. Again, thanks for the introduction.**

**[Adrien Agreste @ 09h22]**

**No problem. Are you in the prep time now?**

**{What crisis?}**

**[Marinette Dupain-Cheng @ 09h24]**

**Yeah, but we’re not doing anything. Wendy’s already dressed. There are no alterations to make, and the makeup artist isn’t here yet. So Wendy’s reading something on her phone.**

**{The whole integrity thing about knowing a lot more than what she writes feels like deliberately covering up a story.}**

**I realized we must look like complete pricks lounging around.**

**[Adrien Agreste @ 09h24]**

**Maybe if you stand up you’ll actually look busier.**

**{If she wants to play it that way, all the details we told her were off the record. She should know that.}**

**[Marinette Dupain-Cheng @ 09h25]**

**I would laugh, but that is actually what we just did.**

**{She does, but she still feels bad about it. Like she’s betraying the netizens or something.}**

**[Adrien Agreste @ 09h26]**

**I’m about to go back to the lighting test, but Hale told me there was another gala coming up.**

**{Okay but netizens are a vicious, ruthless bunch collectively. We’re her friends.}**

**[Marinette Dupain-Cheng @ 09h27]**

**Another one? Didn’t you just go to one?**

**{Some would say we are also a vicious, ruthless bunch collectively.}**

**[Adrien Agreste @ 09h28]**

**The charmed life sure is a hard one.**

**{But we are HER ruthless superheroes. And I don’t know about ruthless as much as necessary attitudes.}**

**[Adrien Agreste @ 09h29]**

**It’s this coming Friday.**

**Please, Princess, will you allow me the honor of escorting you?**

**{I’ll remind her next time I talk to her.}**

**[Marinette Dupain-Cheng @ 09h30]**

**I don’t have plans, so sure. I’ll put up with your high-society drama.**

 

Once the room was open, they went to hair and make-up. With Wendy’s brown skin, dark bangs, and doll-like brown eyes, the gold eyeshadow looked divine. The entirety of her face was covered in a light coat of glitter and her naturally rosy lips were painted nude. Marinette and Wendy gossiped in the makeup room while it was just the two of them. “What do you think of the other designs?” Wendy asked.

“Number two—the backless dress with the long sleeves and the capelette is amazing,” Marinette gushed. “I think I’m in love, I want to buy it, or make a similar one for myself.” The honesty came with a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. She wasn’t going to win, was she? Not against number two, or number five, which was an eye-popping electric blue dress. Oh well, it was fun to have just made it this far.

Wendy hummed excitedly. “The inside of the green capelette has a pattern of bunnies,” she observed. “And the way the underskirt fans out from the side is so pretty. How about the blue dress that has a sort of futuristic mod-vibe? Number five, I think.”

Marinette smiled. The anxiety must have still shown because Wendy put a hand on Marinette’s shoulder. “You’ll do fine,” she said. “You’re going to be amazing.”

The girls returned to the prep room when another designer-model pair entered the makeup room and started talking to the makeup artist.

 

**[Marinette Dupain-Cheng @ 09h54]**

**Just got back from hair & makeup. I would send you a picture if I was allowed to, but Wendy looks gorgeous.**

**[Adrien Agreste @ 09h57]**

**Your design is amazing. I’m sure you’ll do great.**

**[Marinette Dupain-Cheng @ 09h58]**

**There are three judges, and they all look intimidating.**

**[Adrien Agreste @ 10h10]**

**Just got a confirmation with Nathalie about the gala. A huge deal for the industry, apparently. My father will even be there.**

**[Marinette Dupain-Cheng @ 10h13]**

**I was already going, but now I definitely have to come with you.**

**But I don’t think I can sew something new in a week in addition to all my schoolwork. Maybe I can find something to alter?**

**[Adrien Agreste @ 10h14]**

**If it’s a big a deal as Nathalie is making it out to be, you can start networking.**

**[Marinette Dupain-Cheng @ 10h14]**

**Have to go. Presentation starts now.**

 

There was an older man with peppered white hair wearing a blazer over a T-shirt and jeans, and a stern looking South Asian woman with a wavy bob wearing a white pantsuit. They introduced themselves as Mr. Henderson and Ms. Kaur. It was also written on their name tags. The third judge was a young woman with brown hair and a gold scarf tied around her neck. The brunette, who had to be less than thirty years old, introduced herself as the CEO of the company. She insisted everyone call her Camille. The other two people were executives with fashion design backgrounds.

They gave their presentations by number, and Marinette was number eight. She spent most of the time before her presentation with her brain split in half. She rehearsed what she was going to say in her head while attempting to pay attention to her fellow finalists. Number two was even more gorgeous when Marinette got to see the model move in the garment. The cream-colored underskirt with the patterned lining was hypnotic. What Marinette and Wendy thought was a dress turned out to not be a dress at all, but a form-filling top with buttons and a detachable skirt. The buttons had been hidden by cloth attached to the shirt which wrapped along the waist and was tied into a bow at the side. Marinette just about lost it when the designer—a girl who had mentioned she was a student at Istituto Maragoni-Paris, who looked at bit like Zendaya in Marinette’s opinion—demonstrated that the cape and skirt were reversible. She wondered what the protocol for fangirling over someone she was technically supposed to consider a peer was. She wanted to examine the skirt close up with a magnifying glass, and ask Tessa, the designer, a bunch of technical questions.

Number five, the blue dress Wendy had pointed out, was interesting because of its shape. The way the overskirt fanned out reminded Marinette of a flower petal or a ballerina’s tutu. There was a slim-fitting, floor-length skirt beneath it that was white in color and also detachable.

The other presentations were fine, but Marinette honestly couldn’t concentrate on them, and, suddenly, she was the one speaking after Wendy and walked up and down the room. Marinette began when Wendy had returned to standing by her right side.

Marinette faced the three judges and took a deep breath. “For my project, I wanted to create something versatile enough that it could be used as haute couture but also be worn on a regular day. Versatility and sustainability to me meant more than just the mechanisms of the garment, but also in what situations the garment could be used. Since versatility coincided with crossing boundaries I stepped away from the tradition women’s gown, and went with the elements of a tux. However, I wanted the silhouette to still be that of a gown. As others have mentioned, I made the piece out of two separates to make it seem like you could wear each piece again and again, with different articles, to create different outfits.”

“I love the flower on the side,” Ms. Kaur, said. “I think it brings the whole outfit together.”

“Thank you,” Marinette said. The judges weren’t very forthcoming with feedback at this stage, so she felt a swell of pride. They were probably getting more detailed comments and critiques after the final judging. The CEO hadn’t said a word since the presentations began. She had been continuously scribbling notes into a pad of paper.

“Thank you,” Mr. Henderson, said. “We will be moving on to the next presentation.”

And suddenly it was over. She had her chance to impress, and she either blew it, or she didn’t. Marinette didn’t feel awful about her speech, but she didn’t feel particularly good either. Wendy gave Marinette a reassuring smile as they listened to the final two presentations.

Once Mr. Henderson announced the presentations were concluded, there was the Q&A session.

The judges circled the room and addressed each designer individually. Ms. Kaur was the first to approach. Marinette ended up telling her about how she constructed the flower from the scraps because she wanted to give the garment a more feminine touch, and it worked well with the silhouette. Mr. Henderson, commented on the quality of the craftsmanship, and how he was impressed with the inside-lining of the top when they had gone through the entries the first time.

Camille, the CEO, was a couple centimeters shorter than Marinette, but had a sort of self-assured presence around her that made her seem larger than life. She addressed Wendy and Marinette together.

“The clothes look so comfortable, and the way you walked in them was great,” she said.

“They are very comfortable,” Wendy said.

Camille tilted her head. “You are one of the pairs not assigned, no?”

“That’s right.” Marinette put her arm on Wendy’s shoulder. “I knew I was working with her for this contest about a month prior. It made things easier.”

Camille hummed in agreement, and then asked Wendy to spin around slowly. She kept her eyes trained on the culottes as she did so. “It is very fluid. The silhouette of the skirt can change like water.”

“Um, thank you,” Marinette said.

“The strip of red down the side is a great detail,” Camille added. “It brings the upper and lower pieces together.” Camille walked away quickly to talk to the next finalist. Despite the urban myth of people in fashion never smiling, Marinette found herself grinning from ear to ear. She stared at the ground and tried to regain her poker face, but Wendy’s giggling made it just about impossible. Whatever the results, Marinette had gotten through the hardest part.

Marinette and Wendy sat in the chairs in the hallway silently as the judges made their decision. She handed Wendy her phone when she reached for her own in her purse. Wendy had given her phone to Marinette to keep because, although the culottes did have pockets, it would have been incredibly unprofessional to use them during the catwalk.

 

**[Marinette Dupain-Cheng @ 12h40]**

**The presentation is over. I know I’m supposed to keep my poker face on during these things, but one of the judges said I did great work, so I ended up smiling at the end.**

**[Adrien Agreste @ 12h45]**

**Let’s be honest, LB, you don’t really have a poker face. You couldn’t keep a straight face _except_ to save your life.**

**[Marinette Dupain-Cheng @ 12h46]**

**Eh, I admit it’s true, so I can’t be mad at you for being honest.**

**[Adrien Agreste @ 12h47]**

**Talk to Chlo—she’s going to be going on Friday too, with Sabrina as her plus-one.**

**They invited you dress shopping, if you’re hard-pressed to find something to wear.**

**[Marinette Dupain-Cheng @ 12h49]**

**Um, I’m not fully done with explaining to Chlo about the awkwardness that comes with her thinking she can just pay for everything and it will be fine.**

**[Adrien Agreste @ 12h50]**

**She’s paying for Sabrina’s because she’s the one dragging her into it. Following that logic, I should pay for yours.**

**[Marinette Dupain-Cheng @ 12h50]**

**~~ You know I feel squicky about that…**

**[Adrien Agreste @ 12h51]**

**I’m wearing my father’s designs, of course, so it’s not going to cost me anything. I can spot you for a gown.**

**Better yet, you can put it on my tab. In the future, you’ll just have to make me a tux for one event or another. A divine, one-of-a-kind Dupain-Cheng original.**

Before Marinette could reply, they were called back into the room.

“We would first like to congratulate all of the finalists here for making it this far.” Camille’s voice was low and authoritative. “You are the top ten selected out of 203 entries. All of your designs will be displayed at headquarters, and you will receive appropriate remuneration for the display period.”

The remuneration amounted to 100 euros, which wasn’t much. From what Marinette read about similar contests, most of the time the entries automatically became property of the corporation, so she was grateful to be getting any money at all for her work.

“All of you had interesting, commendable approaches to the prompt, and we have taken both your original essays and today’s presentations into consideration when making our decisions about the placements,” Camille continued. “Some of you may be wondering about the condition about finding your own models versus their being assigned to you. It was part of the contest as well. As you may have discovered, it may have been as simple as cold-calling a couple of modeling agencies and asking about their girls. It was a test of resilience and dexterity. We wanted designers to show initiative in finding the models. We wanted to see you take a plunge into the unknown, and that took some bravery. For those five who just met their models today, it was another show of adaptability in facing the unknown. That being said, whether or not you came with your own models is a non-existent factor in the results. The designs was the greatest deciding factor, as it should be.

“Now we will be announcing fourth and fifth place, which will both receive cash prizes of two-hundred and fifty euros,” Mr. Henderson spoke. “In fifth place, Milo Thomas. We thought your evening gown, though not the most versatile, was a work of art for its draping and attention to detail. Congratulations.”

The person Marinette remembered as number nine walked up and accepted his envelope and give his thanks. Everyone clapped.

“In fourth place, Elinor Caron,” Mr. Henderson continued. “The judges thought your ability to embroider so much given the time frame was incredible. The gown is not so much versatile as it is wearable, but the embroidery is what truly qualifies it as haute couture. Congratulations.”

The same ritual of acceptance occurred with number six.

“Next, we would like to present the award for third place. This person will receive an award of five hundred euros,” Ms. Kaur announced. “In third place, Joshua Roux. The skirt of your gown truly embodied haute couture. We liked the fit of the entire garment, and the way the detachable bottom skirt turned the look from evening to day easily. Congratulations.”

Number five stepped up, looking disbelieving and bashful, and accepted his envelope and certificate. Ms. Kaur spoke again when Joshua had returned to his place.

“The award for second place comes with a thousand-euro cash prize. This one goes to someone who truly though outside the box: Marinette Dupain-Cheng. You took what is usually not associated with women’s eveningwear, and made it both feminine and edgy. It looked comfortable, easy to move in, and like it could be reworked into many different outfits. Congratulations.”

Marinette didn’t step forward until Wendy poked her bag, which caused Tikki, who was inside, to notice and purposefully ram into Marinette’s side. With a jolt, Marinette went up to accept her cash prize and certificate. “Thank you so much,” she mumbled. A thousand euros. She had just earned a thousand euros to help pay for materials and next semester’s tuition. Wow.

Camille spoke last. “And the winner of this contest, who will receive the grand prize of two thousand euros: Tessa Lemaitre. You demonstrated a playfulness with your entry that we the judges had not thought possible. Your design was both elegant and whimsical, and superbly crafted. You gave us four possible looks for one outfit, with each one able to fit a slightly different character. You pushed the boundaries of what could be done with one evening gown, and we commend you for it. Congratulations.”

Marinette clapped excitedly because it was the reversible green bunny-print dress. And it had a cape. Competition or not, Marinette would have been devastated if that one didn’t win. As they were preparing to leave Elinor took the initiative and asked if she could get a picture with Marinette and her design, and Tessa and her design. The request sparked an avalanche, and pretty soon everyone was swapping pictures of designs with everyone else and exchanging contact info. Everyone but three of the finalists, who had not lingered. Camille reminded the group that any pictures they took would be for private use only, as per the exclusivity clause of the contract.

 

**[Marinette Dupain-Cheng @ 13h56]**

**They explained the model thing as a way of testing initiative. They wanted us to cold-call agencies or something, or learn to work with someone in a very short amount of time. Thing is, I didn’t do either of those things. I just used a connection to a huge advantage, and didn’t even realize it. Maybe I didn’t deserve the place I got?**

**[Adrien Agreste @ 15h09]**

**You’re being ridiculous. Don’t forget, you made it as a finalist based purely on your design. They wouldn’t have picked you if they didn’t see anything.**

**Next, all the contest specified you do was to find a model. You did. It wasn’t a special request and no strings were pulled. You just happened to get really lucky.**

Wendy got her attention as she finished reading Adrien’s text. They had left the building, and Wendy had suggested stopping by a nearby café for a pick-me-up before going their separate ways.

 “Adrien told me to tell you to stop being ridiculous.” The first sentence was like she was reading off a text, but then she put her phone away and faced Marinette directly. “You’re worried that pulling a friend-of-a-friend in to model is unfair? Guess what? We’re all born on unequal ground—some a lot luckier than others. Take it from the girl born on the wrong side of the equator for her career. Yes, you might have one or two connections, but knowing someone won’t get you anywhere unless you have the drive to follow through.

“I’m sorry if I’m preaching. I’ve just talked about this topic extensively with a friend who is trying to make it in Hollywood because the film industry likes to think it’s so American-centric. Like literally talked to him this morning.” Wendy finished the last of the tart she had gotten at the café before continuing. “You’re working in a meritocracy, Marinette. It’s going to take a combination of hard work and luck. You have to accept that luck is part of the equation. But think of all the things you’ve done. Your internship, school, this contest, you wouldn’t have made it this far if you weren’t absolutely good enough. You want to make it big in this business? Accept that people love to talk, and will find every excuse they can to do it. Don’t let them get to your head before they’ve even started.”

“Wow, do you rehearse all your speeches?” Marinette had to ask.

“I spend a lot of time on the internet. And blog a lot, if that counts.”

Marinette messaged the Press & Co. group with pictures she stated could NOT be shared outside the group chat. They were intentionally blurry and did not show off any of the designs very well. _I got second!!!!_ She wrote. _The green dress got first. I’m disappointed I didn’t win, of course, but the green dress was so beautiful. The picture doesn’t do the details justice. I will whole-heartedly accept that I got beat fairly._

To Adrien she sent a more unfiltered message as she left the café. She waved good-bye to Wendy, who was running to catch a bus. Marinette headed for the metro station, although it took her an absurdly long time to get there because she stopped to text so often.

 

**[Marinette Dupain-Cheng @ 16h05]**

**I don’t know if I should call what Wendy said to me a pep talk or a lecture.**

**[Adrien Agreste @ 16h10]**

**Haha. I’m not sure she knows the difference.**

**[Marinette Dupain-Cheng @ 16h13]**

**The green dress was so good I want to cry. The bodice and sleeves had this sheer cloth around it that let the patterned cloth of the underskirt peak out, and if you had told me to use bunny pattern cloth on a haute couture dress I would have been skeptical, but it WORKED somehow.**

**[Adrien Agreste @ 16h15]**

**You seem pretty star-struck.**

**[Marinette Dupain-Cheng @ 16h15]**

**I suppose so.**

**[Adrien Agreste @ 16h16]**

**I’m trying to imagine you being similarly star-struck over me, way back when.**

**[Marinette Dupain-Cheng @ 16h18]**

**Ugh, you are never going to let me live it down, are you? >:[**

**[Adrien Agreste @ 16h19]**

**Only because you’re so adorable when you’re flustered, Princess. ;)**

**[Marinette Dupain-Cheng @ 16h23]**

**In my defense I am admiring the dress on an aesthetic and professional level. It, and the blue dress were on a completely different level, construction-wise.**

**I never quite admired you on a professional level, Chat.**

**[Adrien Agreste @ 16h24]**

**But aesthetics <: D**

**[Marinette Dupain-Cheng @ 16h24]**

**Kitty, you know you’re pretty. You don’t need me to boost your ego anymore.**

**[Marinette Dupain-Cheng @ 16h27]**

**Going underground. I’ll see you in like twenty minutes.**

**We have to get this gala thing sorted out _._**


	12. Ace (Part 2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which this story becomes a fashion appreciation fic for a chapter. You have been warned.

After listening to Alya’s reasoning ( _Let him buy you nice things. You’re the one doing him a favor. It’s not like you can wear an old dress, and you definitely don’t have time to make one yourself. Totally owe him a suit. I’ll even hold you to it._ ) Marinette rushed to a boutique after school on Tuesday, where she met Chloé and Sabrina. Chloé already had her dress picked out. More accurately, she had a trove of dresses she’d bought before, knowing they’d be used for society events soon enough. She had a bunch of shoes for the same reason.

Chloé was also a VIP at the boutique they were brought to, and Marinette found herself treated as such. Shopping at this price range meant sitting on comfortable couches while shop assistants scurried around and presented pieces and accessories that might be of interest. Cookies were brought out to them with a choice of tea or coffee. Marinette sipped a latte while Chloé showed them her dress. It was black lace with elbow-length sleeves and gold accents.

“You had that lying around in your closet?” Marinette couldn’t keep her voice from sounding incredulous. Meanwhile, Sabrina informed the sale’s assistant that she wanted a dark green dress.

Chloé shrugged like it wasn’t that big a deal. “Sabrina, do you think you want sleeves or not? Something minimal, or more intricate? Might help the ladies narrow the selection down.”

“A gown with sleeves, please,” Sabrina told the sales assistant. “I’m not sure about the rest yet.”

“One day I should just invite you to go through my closet,” Chloé said to Marinette off-handedly.

“I do have an academic interest in pretty clothes.” Marinette sipped her drink.

After fifteen minutes of looking through samples, Sabrina was caught between an empire-waist gown with bell sleeves and ribbons, and a simpler gown with spaghetti straps and an elbow-length coverlet that came with a turquoise brooch. The former reminded Marinette of Regency-period England and, aside from the deep green color, would fit the costume for _Pride & Prejudice._

 

_It wasn’t a special request and no strings were pulled. You just happened to get really lucky._

_You’re working in a meritocracy, Marinette. It’s going to take a combination of hard work and luck. You have to accept that luck is part of the equation. But think of all the things you’ve done. Your internship, school, this contest, you wouldn’t have made it this far if you weren’t absolutely good enough._

_Let him buy you nice things._

Adrien was right. Plus, Wendy, and Alya, and anyone else she had ever talked to about that particular issue. Hearing those words had been good, but Marinette knew overcoming insecurities wasn’t that easy. She would have to hear those words over and over again. After all, it had taken a couple nights as Ladybug and many reassurances from Tikki before Marinette was comfortable in the costume after the initial adrenaline of their first win wore off. The confidence she had exuded had been a knee-jerk reaction to Chat’s attitude that had stuck. Tikki liked to remind her that she had adapted quickly, and her confidence as Ladybug was soon less a mask she put on and more a part of her identity.

“There’s a feather motif on the petticoat of the gown with bell sleeves,” Sabrina said in a giddy voice. “I’m going to have to pick that one.” Sabrina was wearing the gown she had picked, so she didn’t have to change as the seamstress came around to see what needed to be altered. Then the sales assistant turned to Marinette.

“I’m not sure about the color, but something with a sweetheart neckline to start.”

“That describes a lot of our dresses. Would you like to look through out catalog for the season?”

“Okay,” Marinette said. She was presented with the catalog on a silver tray with blue velvet lining. Marinette flipped through the book. Her internship probably did rub off on her, because she gravitated towards all the gowns with intricate beadwork. Marinette checked the time and knew she couldn’t afford to be picky. One, because she had patrol with Chat that night. Two, because given the opportunity, she could probably sit there and analyze the gowns all day.

“This could take hours if I let it, and I don’t have hours,” Marinette muttered aloud, which got the other girls to giggle. She asked to see five gowns, and tried them all on. As had been the case with Sabrina, whatever gown she picked would have to be hemmed up. (Oh, the fun of being short.) She ended up going with a dress with its top composed of a sheer cloth, and the bottom made up of layers of tulle. The base color was a bluish-gray, but the dress was covered with intricate embroidery and beadwork depicting autumn leaves. It was a little too late to be season-appropriate, as most of the trees outside were bare, but Marinette didn’t mind.

Once they made their choices, a different salesperson brought out displays of accessories. Marinette was running out of time. She had a pair of gray pearl earrings that her mother had gifted her with for her seventeenth birthday she had yet to wear. They would be perfect. After confirming the dress would be delivered to Chloé’s place, she grabbed her bag.

“Sorry, I have to go. Thank you so much for your help,” she said to the sales assistants and the seamstress. Sabrina and Chloé stayed behind to look at accessories.

Marinette’s forward planning and habit of doing work in advance paid off in the week up to the gala. Despite the squabbles that were still cropping up during group work, Marinette had finished both her looks. She had ended up switching with Willa at one point for fun, because Val and Juan’s spat over cloth had reached a Cold War level standstill, and they might have been trying to prove they could work together by overcompensating. Marinette put her own spin on a skirt that Willa had started, while Willa finished one pair of Marinette’s pants. After a push from Alya ( _Girl, you were class president for four years. I know you can stand your ground.)_ Marinette announced to her groupmates that she would be focusing on her project for draping class for the next few days.

Thus, she found herself in a smaller, much quieter workroom in the evenings and afternoons. She had formed a casual acquaintance with Luca, a man in his late twenties, after commenting on pictures he had of his children. Luca’s favorite topic to talk about was the 4 and 2-year-old running around his house. As Marinette finished the construction of her gown, she heard more details about the projectile properties of mashed peas versus chocolate pudding than she thought could exist.

Most of the gown she was making for draping class was a copper-toned rose gold. It had a mermaid silhouette, and pale pink tulle flaring out from under the skirt. Or it was supposed to, at least. Marinette was having trouble getting the tulle to behave. Which was why when Adrien sent a text Friday evening, she was kneeling on the floor of the workroom surrounded by so much pink it was like she had been dropped into a pool of cotton candy.

Marinette got up and looked for her bag, which was probably buried under some fabric. The question was, which bit? The workroom was conveniently empty.

“Psht, Tikki, where are you?”

The red kwami shot out from under some silk a couple meters away. “Here’s your phone, Marinette,” Tikki said.

“Thanks.” Marinette accepted her phone. Her bag now laid exposed, on the floor, but before Tikki could retreat into it, the door burst open. Marinette froze as Willa walked in. In her periphery she saw Tikki hiding on top of a ceiling fan.

“Whoa, did you see that?” Willa scanned the room.

“S-see what?”

“There was maybe a small bird or something? Something red. It was right in front of you.” Willa stepped further into the room.

“Really?” Marinette squeaked. She inched over toward her bag. “I uh, really didn’t see anything. I’ve been looking for my phone for the past few minutes.”

“You mean the phone in your hand?”

Marinette laughed nervously. “I mean before. Before I found it. Before you walked it. Sorry this place is such a mess. I was just about to clean up and go.” Marinette bent down over her bag and opened it wide, then shot up like a bullet and turned around to talk to Willa. “Before I go, can I see what you’re working on actually?”

“Sure.” Willa got out the bolt of cloth from the bag she had been carrying and her sketchbook. Marinette deliberately sidestepped so that Willa, who was looking at her strangely, turned instinctively to face her. Marinette looked past Willa’s shoulder to watch Tikki fly from the ceiling fan into her bag. She breathed a sigh of relief. “What are you looking at?” Willa asked, turning her head.

“The-the bird. I think I saw it,” Marinette said. “It must have flown out the window.”

“How? All the windows are closed.”

“Yes… They are.” Marinette’s phone vibrated, telling her she had a text. “Maybe I was just hallucinating. I probably just need more sleep. Or coffee, or both.”

Marinette read the text she had just received.

 

**[Adrien Agreste @ 17h09]**

**I’m outside by the park. Are you ready to go?**

The gala was tonight.

 

Willa laughed. “Don’t we all.” She opened her sketchbook and started talking about her plans for the final project.

**[Marinette Dupain-Cheng @ 16h12]**

**Give me five minutes.**

“Sorry, Willa,” Marinette sputtered. “I just remembered have to meet someone really soon, so I have to go.”

Marinette picked up whatever cloth was not currently in the process of being attached to the inner lining of the gown and tried to fold the pieces up as best she could. She stacked all the cloth by the dress form in the corner that was her workspace. By the time that was done, Willa had settled down into her own workspace. Marinette put on her coat and picked up her bag off the floor. She went over to Willa and kissed her cheeks as she left the room, which seemed to always shock the girl, for some odd reason. “Don’t stay up too late, okay?”

“If I get enough done, sure,” Willa retorted.

Adrien was sitting on a bench wearing what must have been the pants from his actual tux and a black pea coat. The outfit was dressed down by his sneakers. His messenger bag was by his side and he was reading his physics book while wearing his aviators.

“On a cloudy day like today, I’m sure the sunglasses are not suspicious at all,” Marinette said as she approached.

Adrien looked up. “Yeah, all the passersby must think I’m this huge poser.”

Marinette giggled. “Your words, not mine.” Adrien put away his book and stood up, gathering up his bag. “Do we have to meet Chloé now, or is there time for food first?”

“She’s probably got a platter of room service waiting for us,” Adrien commented. “You want to get something to share?”

“Let’s stop by El Nopal,” Marinette suggested. “Room service doesn’t do gorditas or tortillas like them, and it’s been a while since I’ve had Mexican food.”

They brought what they ordered (four gorditas, two tortillas) to the suite to join the dishes Chloé had ordered. Chloé and Sabrina were already there, and fully dressed. Sabrina had used a curling iron to give her hair a slight wave, while Chloé’s was straightened and smoothed back into a chignon. Chloé and Sabrina were brave enough to eat their food in their gala clothes, but Marinette was taking no such risk. Adrien took off his coat to reveal he had his dress shirt and vest on, but no tie or blazer. Marinette saw them draped on the back of Chloé’s couch. His dress shoes were by the door, along with the nude four-inch heels Marinette would have the greatest fun trying not to trip in tonight.

“The car is scheduled to arrive in thirty-five minutes,” Sabrina informed them as they sat down to eat. Once the door shut, Tikki and Plagg came out of hiding and joined Raafa, who was nibbling on a piece of green mochi. Next to the mochi was a wedge of cheese and two butter cookies.

“I heard your father is going to be at the gala, Adrien,” Chloé said. In a lighter tone she added. “My dad is in Zurich now, so he certainly won’t be there. I wonder what present he’ll bring me back this time?”

A question from Adrien launched Sabrina into tirade about how lab experiments never worked even when they were by the book.

“How do you get a seventy-percent margin of error?” Marinette asked as she finished her tortilla.

“I think I got two-hundred percent once during a physics lab,” Adrien said. “It went down to twenty percent when I re-did it, which was way better than anyone expected.”

“And you never really find what goes wrong,” Sabrina said knowingly. “You can guess, of course, but you are never certain.”

They finished their pre-appetizer snacks in thirty minutes, which gave Marinette very little time to get dressed. “Your dress is in my room, still in its box,” Chloé said. “C’mon, I’ll zip you up. I can do your makeup in the car. What are we going to do about your hair?”

“I can just leave it down,” Marinette said as they walked into Chloé’s room. “It has a bit of a wave from being in a bun all day. Hey, look, the dress came with a matching headband, problem solved,” she said as she opened the box.

When Marinette and Chloé emerged from the room Adrien had put his jacket on and changing his shoes. His bow tie was hanging from his shirt collar, but not at all done.

“Did you even try?” Marinette asked. “I’ll fix it in the car.”

“You look beautiful,” Adrien replied, which caused Marinette to smile. “You guys too,” Adrien said to Chloé and Sabrina. Marinette was impressed that they rolled their eyes at the same time.

Marinette would never know how Chloé was able to get winged-eyeliner perfect in a moving vehicle, much less an entire face of makeup. Sabrina was fascinated by the kwami, and spent the car ride playing with them apprehensively. She acted like if she poked Tikki too hard the kwami would go up in smoke. Plagg was grumpy about it, but let Sabrina scratch his ears.

“Hey, he’s never that nice to me,” Adrien said, indignant.

They arrived at the venue, a private mansion in Neuilly-sur-Seine with open gardens and expansive grounds. Compared to the crowdedness of the city center, Marinette felt like she might as well have been stepping into the gardens of Versailles. Chloé and Sabrina exited the limo first, followed by Adrien, and then Marinette. The security around the venue promised to be tight, but Marinette was still wary. She was still caught off-guard by the flash of cameras that followed Adrien around like vengeful spirits. She supposed she would get used to it. After all, she was now accustomed to things she wouldn’t have believed in a few years back. She wanted to be with Adrien. Not Adrien Agreste, just Adrien. But separating Adrien from his background and his name would be like separating Marinette from hers. It was such an integral part of who they were.

Marinette hooked her arm through Adrien’s as they presented their invitations at the gate and were let inside. A man in a suit and a badge that designated him as an _official_ photographer snapped their picture as they walked in. Marinette smiled for the camera instinctively. She was willing to put up with a lot more than a standard proponent of fame to stay with Adrien.

Adrien tugged her closer to him as they crossed the gardens. The clouds hid a waning moon, but the grounds were lit up with a combination of street lamps and lights strung up into the trees. Due to the chill, everyone headed inside. “You ready?”

“Please,” Marinette said airily. “I can sweet talk almost as good as you.”

Adrien got through one hors d’oeuvre before he was approached by a woman with striking white hair in a dark blue gown. Marinette was pretty sure she worked for _Vogue._ She had seen her in passing at another event. “Adrien Agreste, how lovely to see you here,” she said.

“Madame Cotillard.” Adrien nodded his head. “This is Marinette.”

Madame Cotillard kissed both of Marinette’s cheeks and looked at her analytically before her face relaxed. “You were one of the finalists for the Koko Vita contest,” she said definitively.

“I- um, yes, I was,” Marinette stammered. “A pleasure to meet you, Madame Cotillard.”

“The pleasure is mine,” Madame Cotillard said. She turned to Adrien. “I must thank you personally for your good work this season,” she said. “And compliments to your father. You do not need to tell him so. I’m sure I’ll run into him here before the night is over.” She walked away as swiftly as she had come.

Marinette looked anxiously at Adrien.

“Madame is all-business,” Adrien said. “She has always been awkwardly blunt. I first met her when I was twelve. She’s a work associate of Father’s. I’m sure he will make a point to talk to her if he thinks it is important.”

Marinette grabbed two flutes of champagne from a passing waiter and handed one to Adrien. “Do you want to run into your father at this party?”

Adrien took a sip. “I don’t know. I should, right? I _should_ want to bump into him and make small talk. But, I don’t know.” He drained the rest of his glass and held it awkwardly in his hands before someone came to take it away.

Marinette made a mental note to only grab sparkling water for the rest of the night. “When was the last time you talked to him?”

Adrien had to count on his fingers. “Seventeen days. That is a little over two weeks ago? He called me and told me Nathalie had reported that my grades were fine. He thought the work I had was acceptable. Then he had a conference call from Madrid to get to.”

Marinette grabbed them each another hors d’oeuvre. She scanned the area for Sabrina and Chloé, and found them across the room, both in conversation with a young man who was talking very rapidly with his hands. They couldn’t help them now. Their phones buzzed simultaneous. They both checked them, and found Nino had sent a message to the group chat.

 

**[Nino Lahiffe @ 20h29]**

**You three *all* crash a party. Oh, don’t worry. *I’ll* take care of everything tonight. *Fine***

Marinette could almost hear Nino in her head, saying those words with a miffed, sarcastic tone. She met Adrien’s eyes, and they both burst out laughing at the same time. Someone responded to the group.

 

**[Chloé Bourgeois @ 20h30]**

**It’s not crashing if you were invited. ;)**

 

Nino quickly replied with an annoyed looking emoji, which caused them to laugh harder. The noise must have drawn some attention, because a couple more people came up to talk to him in quick succession. Marinette hung back and drifted some distance away. She discretely fed Tikki and prevented Plagg from mistaking someone’s brooch for a piece of cheese. She swore that kwami was part magpie. He just seemed to have it in for shiny objects even when they were obviously not cheese. From the hors d’oeuvre table she had wandered to, Marinette spotted someone she recognized instantly.

Maybe it was the flute of champagne she had just finished, but, if Marinette were being honest with herself, she was just tired of it all. She texted Chloé as a way of warning.

 

**[Marinette Dupain-Cheng @ 20h43]**

**I’m about to do something really stupid.**

 

Marinette took deliberate, quick steps and timed her approach to coincide with another guest leaving.

“Mr. Agreste,” Marinette called out. “I hope I’m not interrupting.”

It was strange to see Gabriel again. Marinette immediately understood a small fraction of what Adrien must have felt. This man had been Hawkmoth, her nemesis for years, and he couldn’t even remember. It was unfair to hold a grudge against someone for something they had no idea about, wasn’t it? Now, he was just a man hiding behind a busy schedule and diamond cufflinks.  It took a moment for him to recognize Marinette. Once he did, Gabriel gave her his full attention.

“Ms. Dupain-Cheng. You must have come here with my son.” Gabriel sounded polite, if mildly surprised. “I hear you placed in the contest Koko Vita sponsored. For a start-up, they’ve got potential. I’ll be keeping an eye on them. I also saw one of the gowns you worked on for Balmain. You are doing good work.”

“Thank you, sir.” Before she could bite her tongue, she added, “Aren’t you going to talk to Adrien at all?”

Gabriel blinked. “He is doing well.”

Right, because parents were only supposed to talk to their children when there was something _wrong_. He was doing well, no thanks to him. Adrien wouldn’t admit it, but he wanted to see his father.

“Yes he is. But you haven’t seen him in person in a while, no?” Marinette plastered on a bright smile. “You are busy as always. So incredibly busy, sir,” she added in an understanding voice.

“Yes,” Gabriel confirmed, as if it were obvious. As if he didn’t know how to be anything else.

 

Around the time Gabriel was looking like he hadn’t realized just how long it had been since he had seen his son, Adrien received a text from Chloé.

 

**[Chloé Bourgeois @ 20h50]**

**Adrikins, go be a dear and find your girlfriend.**

“What business do you have with me,” Gabriel asked Marinette as she was spotted, unbeknownst to her, by Adrien from across the room.

_I want you to show your son the attention he deserves_ , Marinette thought. “I didn’t approach you to talk shop. I just saw you and wanted to say hi,” she admitted instead, “Ask how you were, because you’re Adrien’s father.”

Gabriel looked taken aback, and, for a moment, perhaps sad. “I am perfectly fine.” It seemed Marinette had managed to disarm him. “How is my son, as a roommate?”

“He’s great. Not messy at all, as far as the living room is concerned. I don’t know about his own room though,” Marinette said. She grabbed two flutes of champagne from a passing waiter to have something else to focus on besides Gabriel’s piecing gaze and offered one to him. He took it automatically. “You must have adjusted to the change by now.” Marinette took a sip of champagne. “I mean, it must have been a little lonely when Adrien moved out at first.” She took another sip. “He missed you. He still misses you.” Marinette put the partially-drunk flute on a passing tray, because at this rate, she was going to down all of it. “Sorry, I’m rambling. I don’t want to take up too much of your time. Have a wonderful evening, Mr. Agreste.”

She turned around to run directly into Adrien.

“I was looking for you.”

“Did you want to ask for a dance?” Marinette asked, trying not to look back at Gabriel, who she had been prepared to flee from, not to engage in another awkward conversation with.

Adrien laughed in spite of his wary expression. “One usually does, at events like these.”

Marinette bit her lip, trying to look apologetic. _It was an impulse. I knew it was probably a stupid idea, but I went ahead and did it anyway._

Adrien raised an eyebrow and Marinette could feel him internally sighing. _I have no idea what to do with you. Well, what’s done is done._ Adrien broke eye contact with her and faced Gabriel.

“Hello Father,” Adrien said. “It’s nice to see you again.”

“Adrien. You’ve impressed all of my contacts appropriately.” Gabriel said as Adrien took Marinette’s hand.

“Thank you, Father.” He tugged Marinette back, his attention focused on her even as he was answering his father. “Chlo told me to find you.”

“Adrien.” Gabriel looked like he had called his son’s name without meaning to. The moment of surprise was quickly covered up, his face returned to stone. “I can let you know now in person—I will be spending the time around Christmas and New Years between London and Madrid.”

Adrien stiffened. “Of course Father,” He said neutrally. “It can’t be helped. I hope you have a safe trip.”

Marinette was the one tugging Adrien away now. Adrien turned fully, his back to his father. His eyes settled on Marinette’s headband, which he seemed to be examining in great detail. Marinette was the one who looked back. Who turned her head to stare, unabashed, at Gabriel. To her surprise, he was watching them leave, and his steely eyes met Marinette’s bright blue ones. Marinette nodded to him and he looked away, already approached by another interested party.

“It wasn’t terrible,” Adrien said. “He looks older than I remember,” Adrien said in a smaller voice. Marinette grabbed Adrien’s hand with both of hers and tugged him towards the balcony.

“Let’s go see the stars,” she said.

“Stars? It’s been overcast this entire night.” He let Marinette pull him along. They pushed the door open to a balcony, only to find it already occupied. Three people, a girl and two guys, looked up in surprise.

“Agreste, dude. I saw you earlier but couldn’t get away.” The one who spoke had smooth ebony skin, and high cheekbones. His chestnut colored curls were thick, textured, and tied back with a white ribbon that matched his white tux. One of Adrien’s modeling friends, Marinette remembered. They had passed a billboard and Adrien had pointed him out. “That’s Hale. He’s from the States. They photoshopped a scar of his out of the picture. It always gets covered up in makeup anyway,” Adrien had said.

To Marinette, it had been one of those pinch-yourself, I-can’t-believe-this-is-my-life moments. Walking around Paris with Adrien on a rainy Sunday, and it just so happened that he knew a person on the billboard. It was just a business, Marinette reminded herself. Just a highly visible one that relied on name-recognition and being the real-world equivalent of the popular kids at school.

The other guy had freckles and light brown hair. His bangs fell across his face as he focused on the balcony. Marinette realized the guys were playing cards with the deck stacked precariously at the edge of the railing. Hale had placed the cards he was holding onto the stone ledge when they had walked in, but the sandy-haired boy was still holding his.

The girl was Wendy, in a stunning red evening gown. She had an earpiece in, and was talking in rapid-fire English that Marinette acknowledged as a foreign language, and then tuned out. Wendy turned as they walked in, waved, and then went back to talking.

“Hale, nice to see you.” Adrien was grinning. They shook hands. “Clement, I haven’t see you in how many months?”

The brown-haired born shrugged. “Seven, maybe eight, now that I think about it.” He pocketed his cards. “You must be Marinette. Adrien loves to talk about you.”

Marinette felt her face flush. “He does?” Marinette cast a side glance at Adrien, who was blushing too. “Does he say good or bad things about me?”

“He’s actually very elusive, for how much he talks about you,” Hale said as he held out a hand. “You’re a fashion design student. You’re always busy. You cook and bake way better than he ever could. I’m Hale, by the way.”

“Marinette, but you already know that.” Marinette kissed both his cheeks, which seemed to surprise him. Then she remembered he was American. She did the same with Clement, who also introduced himself as a formality.

“Do you always bring playing cards to fancy events?” Marinette asked.

Hale flashed very white teeth at her. “Guilty.”

“To be fair, last time he brought tarot cards,” Clement said. “You weren’t there for that party, Adrien. You tend to go to the bare minimum of them.”

Adrien shrugged. “Didn’t you tell me you only come for the free food? Which is more like a snack to you?”

The boys laughed. “We’re all supposed to be networking now, aren’t we? But we’re here,” Hale said.

“It was Wendy’s idea actually,” Clement said.

“She’s teasing whoever she is talking to mercilessly,” Hale said. “It’s pretty funny, and I don’t mean to be nosy, but I can’t help but overhear. Even if the English comes with a funny accent.”

“You’ve got the funny accent,” Wendy said, but there was no malice behind the statement. She had gotten off the phone and had joined their circle under the awning. “I felt a few drops of water. Looks like it’s finally raining. This dress cannot get wet. I’m heading inside. Nice to see you Adrien, Marinette.” She hugged Adrien, and then Marinette, which, Marinette reminded herself, was not weird to the Australian. Marinette realized Wendy was still holding her phone and the call hadn’t ended.

“Crap, the cards!” Hale said in English. Marinette understood that much, and curse words were really always what you picked up first in a language. He ran back to the balcony and stopped short of the ledge. Marinette could picture what would happen if she had attempted the same thing. She would have bumped into the cards, or hit them with her hands just as she was collecting them. She would watched in horror as the cards fell three stories and go fish or whatever they had been playing turned into 52-pickup. Complete with running through wet grass in stilettos and having other guests wonder what she was doing with cards in the first place. However, Hale swiftly gathered the cards in his hands and turned back. “Did Gwen find another hiding spot inside?” Hale had switched back to French.

“She probably cased the place out because she’s crazy,” Clement said. “Let’s follow her and see if she’s found somewhere with enough space for spit or solitaire.” They said their goodbyes to Adrien and Marinette, and went inside.

“Who’s Gwen?” Marinette asked with her brows furrowed.

“Oh.” Adrien chuckled. “Wendy’s full name is Gwendolyn. When we found out, Hale started calling her Gwen to tease her.”

“Your friends are interesting,” Marinette giggled.

“They’re nice,” Adrien agreed. “They make bookings more pleasant if I run into them. Before, when I only modelled for my Dad’s, there was never really a chance to meet kids my age in the industry.”

The drizzle turned into much heavier rain. Adrien inched further under the awning, closer to the door. “Shouldn’t we get back inside? There aren’t any stars out.”

“No. You can’t even see the moon.” Marinette glanced back behind her. The three balconies to their right had been empty from the start. Back in the main room, the gala was in full swing. It was a mix of bright lights, bubbling alcohol, and a collection of dresses Marinette would have adored being able to examine up close. She could meet so many industry professionals. Even though she planned on making easy conversation instead of networking intensely, every bit helped. Being someone so-and-so recognized from an event a few months back could be beneficial in such a cutthroat business. It was as simple as casually mentioning she was a student at _ECSCP_ if anyone asked. She was content to float around for networking.

Adrien, though, had looked like he was drowning. No, not exactly. Not drowning so much as breathing too much air in. Sabrina had explained to her once, about how scientists had discovered that oxygen was a necessary evil. Oxygen created free radicals in the body that caused unwanted chemical reactions. In mice, they had found that enhanced oxidative reactions shortened the lifespan. _The air we breathe is slowly killing us,_ Sabrina had joked morosely. It was a working theory, all the interesting ones in science were, but a generally accepted one. It was the reason antioxidants were so popular. Adrien hadn’t been treading water, not like her. He was surrounded by air, by the world he was born into and had grown up in. He was surrounded by air that was slowly killing him.

They could go inside, and then what? Adrien would be approached by someone. He would put on a friendly face and exchange pleasantries. He would do exactly as expected of him. He would do nothing wrong so his father wouldn’t notice. He had tried not to care, tried not to let it show, but his father’s plans had hurt. But, it was his father. Adrien would always care, even if his father never quite reciprocated.

Adrien was facing the door, peering inside expectantly. Marinette was on his left, turned in the opposite direction, facing the rainstorm. She turned ninety degrees and grabbed his hands. “Let’s dance,” she said.

Adrien gave her a bemused look. “Here? Now?”

Marinette smirked and stepped backward, feeling the full force of the cold rain. Adrien stumbled forward a few steps before halting. “You’ll catch a cold. And your dress...”

Her dress. Right. A few dozen hours minimum of hand stitching and delicate beading. Meant to be dry cleaned, if at all. “A little water never hurt anybody.” She pulled Adrien forward, and suddenly they were both getting pelted by the rain. His blond hair was quickly sticking to his forehead, and he was grinning from ear to ear.

“Did you just quote _Ouran High School Host Club_ at me?” He put a hand on her waist.

Marinette squared her shoulders and lifted her chin. “You’re the one who forced me to watch that weird show.”

“You know you loved it.” Adrien detangled his other hand from hers and put it on her shoulder. “You went and read the entire manga, and I certainly didn’t force you to do that.”

Marinette put one hand on his waist and one on his shoulder. “It was wonderful,” she admitted. They started swaying back and forth. The rain was coming in fat droplets that caught in her eyes and were probably making her mascara run. Her hair was a mess, and she was soaked through. It would not show in the dress because of the beadwork, but she could feel her skirt getting weighted down as they stepped to an imaginary beat. Adrien twirled her around. They stepped on each other’s toes a handful of times and Marinette nearly tripped on her dress twice (she would have, if Adrien hadn’t caught her) but it was perfect.

It was perfect, and it was also getting really cold, so they stopped dancing after five minutes and scurried back under the awning. Marinette was shivering as she grabbed the handle of the door. She paused. “Probably not a good idea to return to the fancy party soaking wet?”

“We have to. I mean, you know we left Tikki and Plagg in there, right?” Adrien pointed out.

“Hold on.” She fished her phone out of the pocket of her dress. It was one concession she would not make—if her dress was going to cost that much, it could at least have functional, large pockets hidden in the skirt. She had several texts all from Chloé. One of the texts read:

**[Chloé Bourgeois @ 21h14]**

**Tikki and Plagg are with Raafa. I think they’re hiding under a table. Raafa said she was getting dizzy under my skirt.**

**[Marinette Dupain-Cheng @ 21h35]**

**We’re in the leftmost balcony. Help us sneak back in?**

 

Adrien noticed what she was doing. He took out his phone as well.

 

**[Chloé Bourgeois @ 21h35]**

**YOU WENT INTO THE RAIN IN THAT DRESS????**

**[Marinette Dupain-Cheng @ 21h36]**

**I danced in the rain in this dress.**

**[Chloé Bourgeois @ 21h36]**

**The party looks like it will be winding down in half an hour or so, so you could have done worse.**

It was Sabrina who met them at the balcony, giving them a sheepish look. “You’ll catch colds,” she said. She put up a hand to tell them to wait. Suddenly, they heard a crash. Before they could see what it was, Sabrina thrust the door open and pulled them inside. Marinette, admittedly, had not thought this part through. The whole stepping away unnoticed in a ballroom with a couple of pillars, but really nowhere to hide part. Adrien quickly grabbed her hand. Marinette lifted her skirt slightly and followed.

Chloé, to her credit, was very good at being melodramatic and had dropped a champagne glass on the floor. It was conveniently close to the table where the cheese and wine were laid out. The three kwami had hidden under her skirts as she made a fuss about how the glass just slipped out of her hand, and she was terribly sorry. She’d knocked over a platter of cheese with three pieces left on it in the process of freaking out and trying to pick up the glass. The wait staff had swiftly come to her aid. For those brief few seconds all eyes had been across the room. No one noticed the two guests walking at a quick pace on the other side.

Adrien and Marinette walked halfway across the perimeter of the room before Adrien opened the door that led out into a small hallway so they could split. He turned right towards a set of stairs. Most likely the old servants’ stairs.

“How did you know this way would be clear?” Marinette asked as they scrambled up the steps. Her question was answered as he opened the door to reveal a dusky old room stacked with boxes in the far corner. Judging from the size and the hard wood, it was an old maids’ quarters. Wendy was sprawled out on the floor in her brilliant red dress, playing cards with Hale and Clement. She still had her earpiece in and her phone to her side. She must have sent Adrien directions. The three card players got an abridged version of how they escaped from the party from Marinette as Adrien texted Chloé the directions to the maid’s quarters. They were in the middle of a new game of poker when Sabrina walked in, followed by Chloé, who was carrying a towel under one arm.

“Adrikins, your reputation is intact,” Chloé said with a flourish as she walked into the room. “Marinette, no one cares about your reputation yet.” She dropped the towel on Marinette’s head. Marinette and Sabrina burst into a fit of laughter. Marinette started drying her hair with the towel.

Hale snorted. “Adrikins?”

Adrien let out a long sigh as Marinette asked where Chloé had even found a towel.

Chloé scoffed as if the question was ridiculous. “From the limo, duh. I had my driver bring it up to the entrance. We only have one though. But there are plenty of umbrellas in the trunk.”

“I think there is a waffle iron in there too.” Sabrina mused.

Marinette decided not to question what people kept or didn’t keep in the back of their limos. She passed the towel to Adrien when she was done. Chloé and Sabrina sat down, and after introductions were made, joined the next few card games despite having nothing to bet with. After a couple rounds of poker, Clément tested out his dealing skills as they played a two-deck version of blackjack. It turned out Wendy’s phone call was still ongoing as she mumbled things in English every so often. Then, everyone got overly invested in trying to create a house of cards. They failed, but were laughing too much to particularly care.

When they exited the room, it was like they had never been there in the first place. Chloé handed the towel to one of the kitchen staff, who accepted it with a questioning expression. The gala had thinned out when they returned (not all at once, as that would have been too conspicuous). Marinette and Adrien left with Chloé and Sabrina. As they were heading out the door, Marinette saw Adrien’s father a couple meters away. Adrien did too. Gabriel Agreste nodded at them as they were walking to the door. “Good night,” He said stiffly. The words seemed to surprise Adrien.

“You doing okay?” Marinette asked as they made their way back to the limo. Sabrina and Chloé were out of earshot ahead of them.

“Yeah, because I’m here with you,” Adrien said sincerely.

“You’re so cheesy, Kitty.” Marinette teased gently.

“I am mildly insulted by that comment,” Adrien said.

“Oh, right. You have a very complicated relationship with that particular dairy product.” Adrien swatted at her head playfully.

They didn’t even make it back to the apartment. The four of them fell asleep on the drive back, and weren’t very keen on moving. Chloé’s driver, not too pushy about arguing with four semiconscious, slightly buzzed teenagers for directions home, dropped them off where he had picked them up. Chloé regained enough of her senses to call a concierge, who led them through a side entrance and up to the suite. Sabrina plopped down on the love seat, while Adrien took a sofa. Marinette passed out on one of the armchairs without even removing her makeup. Why did Chlo have so much furniture in a secondary room? She vaguely remembered Chloé shuffling around and tossing blankets at them haphazardly before the door to her bedroom closed loudly behind her.

\--

 

Marinette woke up with a raging headache despite the shades being pulled down, her head on the softest pillow she had ever used.  She shifted and realized she was covered by a cashmere blanket. Then she remembered the party, but not very much of the ride back. Peering around the room she saw Sabrina still passed out in her gown. With a start Marinette realized she had slept in hers too. The fashion gods were going to kill her. The sofa was empty, though Adrien’s jacket was left there, along with his tie. They had all kicked off their shoes walking in. One of Sabrina’s nude pumps was the one closest to her. The shower of the bathroom closest to the longue area was going. Adrien was probably in there. The door to Chloé’s room was closed.

Marinette fished around for her phone. She had some texts from Alya, and one from Wendy asking if she made it back okay. It was around 9AM. Marinette briefly considered replying before deciding she was too tired to type coherently.  She felt Tikki’s head against her cheek.

“Morning, Marinette,” the kwami said. “How are you feeling?”

“Ugh, my head hurts. I should change out of the dress. I left yesterday’s clothes here, right? In Chloé’s room.” With a sigh Marinette untangled herself from the blanket and knocked on the door to the bedroom. “Chlo, are you up?”

“I’m awake,” Chloé said. “I didn’t even wash all my makeup off, oh my god.” Chloé opened the door to reveal herself in a green facemask and a silken slip. “You didn’t either, it seems. Oh, Sabrina’s still out. Figures. Want to use the ensuite shower? I’m done with it.”

“Thanks.” Marinette walked in and realized all their clothes were in various piles on the white sofa in the bedroom. She shifted through and found the peach shirt and black skirt she had been wearing yesterday. The stockings and oversized cardigan were left for later.

“Feel free to use whatever,” Chloé said from the bed as she went back to removing her nail polish. Marinette walked into a truly impressive display of beauty products in a glittering marble bathroom. “Oh, wait,” she started to say.

Marinette turned around and caught the pale yellow towel Chloé flung at her. “It’s clean, don’t worry.”

Marinette picked out a shampoo that advertised extra nourishment for hair out of her many choices. Chloe really did have a drug store’s worth of products. It felt weird getting into her old clothes after the shower, but there were still clean. Her parents place was closer to here than the apartment. Maybe she should stop by to pick up another set of clothes from her old room? She hadn’t completely emptied her closet when she had moved out.

Marinette got out of the shower with the towel wrapped around her hair. Chloé’s room was empty. She put on her stockings and cardigan and went into the living room. Adrien was sitting on the couch, entertaining the kwami while Chloé was debating what to get from room service.

Sabrina had gotten up by then, and blearily waved at Marinette before heading into the shower in Chloé’s bedroom.

“Let’s not get room service,” Adrien said. “How about we go out to eat.”

“I don’t care either way,” Chloé said. She turned to Marinette. “What do you think? Sabrina told us she was okay with whatever.”

“I’m going to head over to my parents to get a fresh set of clothes,” Marinette said. “We could meet in a bit for an early lunch?”

They met up at a chain bistro later, around the time it opened at 11. Nino and Alya also showed up. Nino laughed with no remorse when Marinette mentioned to Alya that she still had a slight headache. “You deserve it. Lucky nothing happened during patrol last night,” Nino said.

“You have a hangover from one glass of bubbly?” There was disappointment in Alya’s voice.

“It’s not a hangover,” Marinette said. “I’m just tired. I’m trying to get as much done for the end-of-term projects as possible, so I’ve been staying late.”

“It’s a smart plan,” Chloé said. “Master Fu did say this next trip was going to take a little more.”

“Don’t you hate that those were his exact words?” Nino twirled some spaghetti onto his fork. “A little more. A little more what? Time? Energy? Cleverness?”

“You’ll find out soon enough.” Alya checked her phone. “And come back safe,” she added firmly. It was a command.

They promised.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FYI, Chloé's suite is huge, and includes at least two full bathrooms, a walk-in closet, and a media room.  
> And I created the three model OCs because I wanted Adrien to have more friends. The sweet boy deserves so much.


	13. Down the Rabbit Hole

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The weekend continues.

You actually weren’t here this weekend,” Juan commented in class on Monday. “I know because I was, and I finished both my looks.”

Marinette took a slow sip of coffee. She’d gotten used to seeing an assortment of things when entering the workroom every morning—granola bar wrappers piled in the garbage bins, half the class running late, the other half looking like they’d pulled an all-nighter, some form of drama threatening to boil over. However, she had not expected to be asked about her whereabouts in such an accusatory tone. “To be fair I did that last week,” she said neutrally. After years as Ladybug, she was still a terrible, obvious liar. Maybe she was just being paranoid, imagining the suspicion. The next “field trip” was coming up soon, and it always put Marinette on edge.

Juan pointed at her. “So, the ever-elusive Marinette. What were you doing while the rest of us were at least partially slaving away?” Juan might have asked as a joke, but Marinette still wanted to turn and bolt out the door. It was too early in the morning to manage her “third identity.” Plus, who was the genius who suggested they hunt down an akuma in the middle of the week?

The rest of the class wasn’t paying attention, but her three group members peered at her expectantly until Marinette spoke. “Oh, I woke up Saturday in a suite of a five-star hotel with three of my friends. We all had our clothes on from the night before. I was wearing a couture gown worth a few grand.” Juan’s eyebrows shot up and Valerie’s eyes were as wide as saucers. “Sunday was pretty standard, though,” Marinette added off-handedly.

Willa burst out laughing first, followed quickly by the other two. “I didn’t know you were that funny,” Juan said. Marinette smirked.

“You sound like you have a bit of a stuffy nose.” Willa sounded concerned.

“I have been sniffling all morning. I’m sure it’s nothing,” Marinette said as she set down her bag by her workspace. Tikki was safe inside, with no intention to fly out anytime soon. Marinette checked her phone was in her coat pocket.

“If you were just sick all weekend, you didn’t have to lie about it,” Valerie pointed out as she drew something with chalk on black cloth using a T-square.

She should have been much further along on her pieces by now. Marinette was trying not to worry, but things were concerning. “I must have got sick dancing in the rain in my couture gown,” she said with some force.

“Now I know you’re certainly joking, girl.” Willa chuckled. “You can’t disrespect that kind of dress, even in your imagination.”

Marinette asked Willa what she had finished over the weekend, and the conversation soon turned to safer topics.

By the end of the day her classmates were convinced she had a bad cold, and that was what had kept her away all weekend. Marinette had accepted her fate on Saturday, the day after the gala. Adrien had tried not to smile when she admitted it, and bought her medicine from a pharmacy on their way to Norte Dame.

Her classmates had asked her casually what had kept her away for the weekend, and she had told them a very small part of the story. The gala had been great, and conveniently outlandish, but was in no way the craziest event of the weekend. Not by a long-shot.

\--

**Saturday**

There were pros and cons to the Labyrinth opening in Khan el-Khalili. Pro: among the throng of tourists and locals trying to get a good deal out of the shops, the four of them were hardly noticed climbing out of some basement trapdoor tucked into the corner of a bazaar. Con: they had no clue that was where they had been until long after they had left. It was only because the akuma’s giant fox form couldn’t be missed that they had any direction to go toward at all.

Cairo was chaos. Shopkeepers yelled as the miraculous users scaled up tents and onto the flat roof of a building where three old men were smoking and playing cards. They heard shouts in two different dialects of Arabic and swatches of English and French. Volpina’s appearance left the merchants at the outer edges of a bazaar undeterred.

From the rooftop, as they ran past the wary men, Chat Noir vaguely registered the spiraling cityscape. Cairo was built upon millennia of history that made Paris seem like a tiny speck on the map. There were rivers and streams of people. More humans crowded together than Chat Noir had ever seen at once. As they got closer to where Volpina was, he saw some shopkeepers had proactively bordered up their stores.

“Knights, go slay the demon!” A dark-skinned old man with a long white beard shouted at them in broken French from where he was standing in front of his stand of decorative tapestries.

“Doesn’t Volpina usually not form until we get here?”

Ladybug had a point, but there was no time to dwell on the technicalities. Besides, Volpina’s presence saved them the trouble of looking for it. He spotted Volpina trying to move past a cargo truck that barely fit into the street. It was disoriented by a spice bomb that had targeted its head. The surrounding stores had been cleared of people. Metal roll-down doors concealed the hole-in-the-wall shops, though a few umbrellas and tent covers laid askew. The akuma leapt onto the cargo truck just as the miraculous team hit the ground. They scrambled after it. There was a dead end coming up (they had spotted it from the higher vantage point) and Chat hoped the akuma could be cornered.

Up close, the akuma was about the size of an adult male moose. However, it moved its body as if it were feather-light, springing from its hind legs to shoot past where the four of them were blocking the way onto the truck and darting down the street away from the dead end. It ran briefly up the side of the building, moving in a graceful arc like a skateboarder might across a bowl or half-pipe, and pushed forward once its paws touched ground again. The akuma had been a blur of black, but there would be no need to look for the pendant shard this time. It had been clearly visible when the akuma was glaring down at them with orange, pupil-less eyes, at the center of its forehead. Chat thought it resembled a combination of Espeon and Umbreon.

Three of them chased after the creature on foot. Celeste had taken to the skies to guide them. As the creature zipped across the market place through winding streets, their surroundings became more populated.  Some people continued to shop or haggle like normal. They passed shops rich with the aroma of spices and restaurants serving _kushari._ Down one narrow alleyway there were rows of colorful rubber balls and the lower half of mannequins dressed in boldly patterned leggings hanging overhead. The fox swiped its tail in a deliberate, mocking fashion. All of the wares that were hung up in the rafters rained down on the miraculous users in an avalanche. They dodged the incoming plastic limbs and elastic cloth as Honeybee whipped away the falling merchandise. The akuma seemed to laugh.

The black fox jumped again, this time sailing overhead and making a turn around a blind alley.

“Go the other way,” Celeste said from the sky. “I’ll try to see if I can push it to run in your direction. Just keep running straight.”

The three on the ground pressed forward. Chat Noir would have considered going by rooftop, but it seemed the inhabitants’ response to a giant fox trampling through their midst was to all gather on the roofs and peer down at the heroes, hollering cheers and laughing. There may have been a few helpful directions shouted in French, but they were lost to him as Chat Noir tripped over a bag of lentils someone had left.

“I though cats were supposed to be graceful,” Ladybug teased as she helped him up, then kept running.

As they passed an alleyway, they saw a streak of black.

Two things happened at once. First, Ladybug and Honeybee both swung their weapons in fast enough arches to form shields as a strong gust of wind from Celeste, which also made everything remarkably dusty, aided them. Second, a bazaar’s worth of materials flew at them, blown out of the fox’s mouth like bullets. Perfume bottles, shisha pipes, and coffee beans were among the projectiles. Chat Noir was pretty sure what whacked him in the face was a belly dancing outfit.

“I wager the fox thinks it’s smarter than us,” Chat Noir said.

“Given our record, it may be smarter than us,” Honeybee retorted.

“Lucky Charm!” A large burlap sack dropped into Ladybug’s hands.

“What are you supposed to do with that?” Chat Noir asked.

“Keep it distracted,” Ladybug responded. She latched her yo-yo around the pole of a tent nearby that hadn’t been shut and swung herself up on top. The fox was at about 11 o’clock, and the other three were attacking it at all at once. Keeping it preoccupied was easier said than done because its hind legs and tail were still powerful weapons in such a small space. It was swiping any broken, stray object it could find in the alley to fling at all three of them at once.

Ladybug dove with the burlap sack above her head like a parachute and landed squarely on the fox’s back. Its momentary surprise allowed her to use the sack to cover its head before she was thrown off and against the side of a building.

“Keep it from moving!” Honeybee’s voice rang clear as Ladybug dragged herself up. She tested her shoulder, which had taken the brunt of the hit, and found the pain bearable. _Thank you, magic._

Disoriented by the burlap sack, the akuma was no longer pelting objects in every direction. The team used the opportunity to each use their superpowers. Wind Tunnel, aimed from above, was putting a lot of direct pressure on the akuma’s hind legs and tail. The fox’s tail slowly bent until it pointed directly at the floor. Bee shot Honeycomb at the fox’s front legs. It encased them like taunt gold chains attached to buildings on either side.

Chat Noir bounded forward. He used the Honeycomb as a ladder and springboard, half-climbing, half-jumping up to reach the fox’s head. He tugged off the burlap sack and used Cataclysm right next to the orange shard. He pried the shard out and threw it into the sack. With the shard gone, the akuma was already starting to wilt away. Chat Noir jumped back from where he was hanging from the Honeycomb fixture and presented Ladybug, who had quickly run over, with the sack like it was a gift.

“For the Lady,” he said playfully, although there was a hint of concern in his voice.

“Thanks.” Ladybug reached into the sack and felt for the shard, which she placed into her yo-yo. “De-evilize,” she said. She tossed the burlap sack in the air, although it didn’t go very far without help from the yoyo. “Miraculous Ladybug.”

The spectators cheered from roofs and windows once they realized that whatever damage incurred was fixed. As the four teenagers walked through the alleyway, it was coming rapidly back to life, a few vendors even started talking to them.

“Wonderful stuff for superheroes here.”

“Do you carry money on you?”

“The girls each worth ten thousand camels.”

“Do you know Batman?”

After knowing glances at one another, they each made for separate rooftops, scattering to find a place to de-transform.

“There’s an old mosque right outside Khan el-Khalili,” Honeybee said through the coms. “Get there and then go back to civies.”

When the group reformed, they were each dressed in light winter clothes that were still too warm for Cairo. Everyone left their jackets open. Alya had warned them in advance, and Marinette and Chloé had dark scarves covering their hair. They started walking in a random direction to distance themselves as much as possible from the bazaar.

“If we’re just standing in a circle talking we’ll stick out even more than usual and be targets for pickpockets,” Nino said. “Anyone have Egyptian pounds on them? Or know where the nearest ley line is? Or both would be sweet.”

“You may need the money, because you can’t leave Egypt just yet,” Tikki said from inside Marinette’s bag loud enough for just the group to hear.

“Why not?” Marinette peered into the bag to look at the glittery eyes of the kwami.

“Because Egyptian coffee is delicious. It was my recharge food a few incarnations ago,” Duusu said from inside Nino’s jacket pocket. “And more importantly, because you have to get to Giza. Inside the Pyramids is a key to the quantic gods.”

 “That’s a forty-minute car ride,” Chloé said. “Three and a half hour walk.”

“There are ley lines that will get you there quicker from Cairo,” Raafa said.

“Awesome.” Adrien addressed all the kwami hiding on their persons. “Lead the way after we eat.” He paused, waiting for some sort of pushback. Tikki to tell him they were in a rush, or Plagg to give more details about what exactly they had to do in Giza that was so important. Master Fu had warned them, however vaguely. No kwami or human contested him, so they set out to look for food, before realizing money was an issue.

They found a French bank where they could potentially withdraw money, but it became an issue of explaining how they even got there in the first place. After Moscow, Adrien had suggested they carry their passports around with them, but passports did them little good without the proper paperwork and stamps inside.

Chloe piped up once their confusion was apparent. “I exchanged some Egyptian pounds in advance,” she admitted. She had also known how far away the Great Pyramids were. It was a logical thing to look up, when doing research about traveling to Egypt. “I know you don’t usually like my spotting you for things, so just pay me back later.”

They entered a street full of restaurants obviously meant for tourists for a late lunch. They could have gone hunting for local secrets that were less overpriced, but no one wanted to risk going too far off the large roads without a guide. Their kwami didn’t count as guides as, despite their knowledge of Egypt being extensive, it was also dated by a few centuries. It was the kind of place were servers hounded lost-looking people with menus and turned speaking brazenly to foreigners into a sport. They were talked at in broken English before Chloé muttered a comment in French. The servers of the surrounding restaurants made their switch and they chose the one that offered waffles as a side.

The inside of the restaurant was decorated with over-the-top ornaments touting local tourist attractions. In addition to waffles and some thin-crusted imitation of pizza with chunky tomato sauce and sparse mozzarella cheese topped with an interesting assortment of vegetables, they had Egyptian food. Nino ordered _Ful medames_ , a spread of richly seasoned beans, which Adrien had never tried before. Adrien ordered _kushari,_ which he remembered eating once. Also on the table were rice-stuffed vegetables and _shawarma_. In the end, it didn’t matter who ordered what, because they tore their pita bread into pieces and shared all the dishes on the table.

Egyptian coffee reminded Adrien of Turkish coffee. There was probably a slight difference in flavor, or some other distinction, between Egyptian coffee and Turkish coffee, but Adrien wasn’t too sure. He knew of it because his mother had liked to drink it. She prepared it herself, maybe once or twice a month. She would always do it herself, instead of having the cooks do it. His mother had coached him through it a few times before… well, anyway, he hadn’t touched the coffee-making kit in ages. It was probably somewhere in the kitchens. _I should find the kit and see if I remember how to make it. I should—_

Nino prodded his shoulder. “Dude, you spacing out?”

Adrien shook his head. “It’s nothing. I was just wondering why in the world we have to go to Giza when we already defeated the akuma.”

\--

 

Marinette was particularly glad for their alternate route of travel after walking around in their civilian clothes. There was no longer any magic to shield them from the dust or smog. They caught a small glimpse of what traffic was like. Bikes and mopeds and the occasional cart competed with the cars and trucks. Everyone seemed to think they had the right of way, and now they were beginning to understand why reckless driving was a trope that worked so well in all those adventure films that took place in Cairo. Marinette couldn’t even drive yet, so she was deeply impressed and somewhat terrified.

It took less than ten minutes to get to Giza from Cairo. Once they got past the metropolis, the kwami could guide them effortlessly, as among the sand dunes and the pyramids, the kwami were in the Egypt they knew, or had known. Marinette paused for a moment, standing with dust in her clothes but the vast, cloudless sky above and the horizon stretching as far as the eye could see. She had never been to any place like it. For all the raves the Eifel Tower got, Marinette didn’t think anything on earth could compare to the splendor that was the Great Pyramids. There as a reason why they were one of the seven wonders. Why it was the oldest and only one to survive. “Wonder” was even too simple a term to use. It was one thing to see in pictures or videos or to think of in the abstract. Tikki had led them through a route that was fenced off and not accessible to tourists, who were a distance away and didn’t notice them. It was like their own private portal to the past.

They were in the shadow of the pyramids for the forty-five seconds it took them to cross from where the Labyrinth had spat them out to the hidden entrance via metal trap door buried in the sand. Thanks to the instruction of their kwami, they opened it quickly, without drawing any attention to themselves. Once they were in the dark and security of whatever ancient tunnels they were running through, Marinette let out a sign of relief. Here, they wouldn’t be spotted. Still conscious of the implications of running around as they were in a foreign country, she felt most at ease in the tunnels. There was comfort in the walls and ceiling. Maybe it was a ladybug thing, but the dim lighting didn’t bother her, and with Tikki around, she could always find her way. She felt _safer_ , but not quite safe.

Plagg off-handedly mentioned that he remembered a host back in Hatshepsut’s time who’d use the labyrinths to sneak off to Punt and cause trouble. Thus, their one-of-a-kind tour of a select few parts of the Great Pyramids turned into a case-study of previous hosts.

“Oh, I remember,” Duusu said. “You caused a heck of a lot of trouble for me, because my host had to pick up your slack.”

“I remember those days,” Raafa said serenely. “It was easier to predict when an akuma attack would occur. They seemed to happen a lot after the floods.”

“If you had to deal with akuma attacks too, did you have a miraculous-gone-rogue too?” Adrien asked.

“Not always,” Tikki said.

“Hardly ever,” Raafa added.

“Akuma form from negative energy, as you know,” Tikki continued to explain. “Back then, until very recently actually, magic flowed more freely in general. All sorts of magic collided with each other, and when akuma were born, we dealt with them, but such incidents were fewer and far between. Generally, we just helped people the best we could, as all gods should. The hosts were worshipped as minor deities themselves.” Tikki added after some consideration, “Worshiped, or feared.”

“I remember the fear,” Plagg said. “It was the reason why we stayed out of Europe from 900A.D. to the 1700s. Well, Iceland was okay at first.”

“Ah, yes,” Raafa said. “It was during then that we spent most of our time in what is now Western China. Many of our hosts were Uyghur.”

“There was one girl as Chat Noir who was the sharpest archer I’d ever known,” Plagg mused. “She could shoot so far that some of her game would have taken up to half an hour to walk to, if it weren’t for the Miraculous. She was also the greatest falconer I’ve worked with too.”

Tikki seemed surprised by the cat kwami’s words. “Better than that Roman boy from, when was it… 100 B.C.?”

Plagg harrumphed. “By far.”

“Seriously though, Tang Dynasty China was the place to be. Especially if you were west of the Empire, among the tribes,” Duusu boasted. “Most of them didn’t even need the suits, with their being trained to hunt from birth.”

“You’re forgetting 11th century Japan,” Plagg said.

“Okay, but while you were lazing around the Heian court I was doing real work among the Ainu,” Duusu challenged.

Tikki and Raafa compared notes as Duusu and Plagg argued. The four hosts listened with keen interest.

The kwami casually recalled the Olmec civilization, a Berber dynasty in Morocco, and the Sahelian kingdoms. The kwami had been all over the world, many times, at many points in history. Adrien seemed particularly fascinated by ancient Polynesia, where the kwami had seen the true majesty of its flora and fauna, completely untouched by invasive species. He kept asking about a bunch of snails and birds.

Marinette was at the point in life where she felt a bittersweet nostalgia when she passed former school buildings, or entered her old room, or that sweets shop with the popcorn balls that had closed down during their final year of _lycée_. It had been open for ten years and had been Alya’s favorite.

It seemed like the kwami felt that way about every point on Earth. No wonder Plagg was grumpy and Duusu was prickly. It was a wonder that Tikki was sweet and Raafa so nonchalantly serene. Or maybe they were that way out of necessity. Everywhere the kwami went, they must have had their memories stacked in their minds like playing cards. Decks of recollections, like clip from movies rolled into films. Layer upon layer of experiences and places and times. Had the kwami seen the rise and fall of civilizations? Empires at their height. The failures and triumphs of people in tribes that once seemed like the center of the known universe but now, lost through time, were given barely a sentence in history books, if they were mentioned at all.

Marinette hung back with Tikki for a bit and whispered a question to the kwami.

“Can you tell me about some of your past hosts?” Marinette asked in a soft voice. “You must miss them.” A flash of pain crossed Tikki’s face, which made Marinette immediately regret her question, but she’d already started digging. “Do you remember all of them clearly?”

“Like crystal.” Tikki breathed out. “My memory never fails. There have been happy endings and tragic ones, but I cherish my time with every host.”

It seemed she wasn’t going to get any conductive answers without asking more specific questions. Marinette bit her lip. Tikki waited expectantly, floating in front of her. Marinette shifted her gaze up while her shoulders were hunched and her head, slightly downcast. The words burned on her tongue. “Who was the most recent tragedy?”

Marinette’s question startled Tikki. The kwami closed her eyes and floated to land on Marinette’s cupped palms. After they’d turned down a winding corridor, Tikki began speaking. The words gushed out like water from a geyser. Piping hot, like something Tikki had been repressing for a long time. “In the middle of World War II my host was an American girl who desperately wanted to fly planes. She thought she would do more as Ladybug on the other side of the Atlantic, and the only way she could think to do so was to join the Air Force. It was hell trying to claw her way up from her small Texas town. She was half-Mexican, but pale enough to pass for white, and that’s how desperately she wanted to do it. Enough that she was willing to hide half her identity. It was so much easier then, if you could pass for white, to become a fly girl. All the girls of color who somehow made it there had to work twice as hard, against all odds, for half the credit.

“So she joined up once the US entered the war, and got to Europe, where they had been fighting the bloody and terrible fight for years and years. If you want to know about Poland, talk to Raafa. Her host at the time, a young man, was there, among the worst of it. Anyway, Clara. Her name was Clara. She’s ferrying planes because they still won’t let the girls fly combat, even if they were more than qualified to.

“In the middle of it all, we talked for a long time. Clara wanted to give me up. She couldn’t do two jobs at once, she reasoned.” Tikki rolled around in Marinette’s palm. “I let her go. I watched over her for a bit, and Master Fu did not find me a new host for a while, as per my request. I think Clara knew. We parted amicably, we did. Clara met a nice English boy, got married once the war was over, and returned to Texas once more before moving to England. She had a son and then a daughter, and they were happy. They were blissfully happy until she got killed by a hit-and-run in 1957.

“I was so raging mad when I realized. Clara had survived bombings and test flights and one long secret op into Nazi-occupied France. She honestly did more to save the world out of costume. She was bright and ambitious and optimistic, and well, a lot like you, Marinette. But for all the magic she once held, she still suffered at the hands of a drunk driver, and I couldn’t protect her. I couldn’t protect her.”

Tikki trembled a bit in Marinette’s hand before floating up again. “So then I found another host. I ended up in East Berlin, which was as fun as it sounds. My host was a young man who lived a five-minute walk from the border-houses where they built the Wall. As Duusu put it when he found out, _I sure know how to pick ‘em, don’t I?_

“I learned quickly that it’s best not to dwell. Remember, but don’t dwell. The host that matters most to me, who I will always think of first, is my current one. Which means you, Marinette. When you’ve lived as long as me, you learn to cherish every moment for what it is. I’ll be happy to tell you as much as you want to know about the past, and I am grateful that you asked. But also know that I enjoy dealing with the present.”

Marinette twirled a loose strand of hair with her finger. “I just realized there is so much I don’t know about you.”

“I would be honored to tell you more,” Tikki said sincerely. “Right now, however, we have more pressing concerns.”

After navigating through narrow, brick-lined passageways and past a few bronze doors that Duusu warned were booby-trapped, they reached another circular room several levels below what was probably known to archeologists. Plagg had activated one of those doors for fun, and in the three seconds Marinette had to peek inside, she could have sworn she saw a ring of fire and the shadow of a human skeleton. She could have also been imagining things, but she didn’t think she was _that_ lucky.

A thick bronze door opened to a circular room with a pit at its center, the size of a small pool. It was about the size of the koi pond at Chloé’s summer villa, which Marinette had been invited to once. There were hieroglyphics from wall-to-ceiling. The hieroglyphics covered the interior of the pit too. The pit was lined with white tiles that had bronze script across them in a script that Marinette didn’t recognize at all.

“Where’s the light coming from?” Nino asked. “Aren’t we like a million miles underground? I distinctly remembered walking down stairs.”

“It certainly wasn’t a million miles, but Nino has a point,” Chloé said.

“The light is from another realm,” Raafa answered seriously. “You can see it for the same reason you are aware of and can enter this room. You are hosts, your fates now intertwined with us kwami. Gather around the pool, please.”

They did as they were instructed, although it technically wasn’t a pool yet, as there was no water. Once everyone had taken their places, Plagg turned on a tap, and the basin filled with water. They could see their reflections among the hieroglyphics.

“It’s science, not magic.” Raafa confirmed. “I do enjoy interesting combinations of both.”

“Okay, before Raafa goes on a tangent about Mesopotamia, the purpose we are here, if you please,” Duusu interjected.

“Right,” Tikki said. “As you may know, magic changes with every user. It shifts, it grows, and the same will likely happen with Volpina.”

“The longer she is out there, the more she is exposed to collective negative energy, and the more powerful the manifestations will become,” Plagg said. “Especially after Cairo.”

“What’s so special about Cairo?” Nino asked.

“Well, not only is it an ancient city with thousands of years of history, it is a very magical city,” Duusu explained. “It is what we call one of the World Centres, where magic of many different kinds, from various gods and other deities intersect, along with its users and believers. Giza is one of the places you can truly connect with the quantic realm in a way that you can’t anywhere else, even in Tibet.”

“The other World Centres are Prague, Shanghai, Lagos, and what remains of Tenochtitlan in Mexico City,” Raafa added. “Here, you will be able to enter the Quantic Realm, which is sure to increase your power.”

 “You brought us here so we could enter the Quantic Realm?” Chloé sounded skeptical.

The kwami nodded. “By connecting more deeply with the Realm that provides the source of your power, you should be able gain an advantage over the akuma,” Raafa said.

“Not that you aren’t doing great now,” Tikki started to say.

“Better safe than sorry?” Adrien offered.

“Yes.” Tikki nodded. “We want all of you safe. We’ve always just wanted all of you safe.”

It was difficult reasoning to argue with. Plus, if any one of them said they weren’t curious about what the Quantic Realm was like, they would be lying.

“It isn’t really an offer we can turn down,” Adrien admitted.

“Yeah, thanks for the explanation and all, but are you asking us to go, or commanding us to go?” Chloé asked.

“Does it matter?” At least Plagg was always honest. “It’s for the best, according to Master Fu and all of us.”

“So we’re going to enter another plane of existence, just like that?” Chloé asked.

“Any of you are free to stay back,” Raafa said.

“No,” Nino said. “It’s either we all go, or none of us do.” Everyone silently agreed.

“So…” Chloé wondered.

“Everyone close your eyes,” Marinette said. “Raise your hand if you are okay with entering the Quantic Realm. Tikki count to ten, and then everyone, open your eyes.”

Marinette shut her eyes. Her hand rose on “two.” She was a lot different from how she was when she had first found the earrings and tried to pass them off to Alya. The moment she put on the earrings and the surge of Tikki’s energy reached every cell in her body, Marinette had known she was all in. Going into the Quantic Realm itself was merely another job requirement. She trusted Master Fu to have their best interests in mind. More than Master Fu, Marinette trusted Tikki. Completely.

“…Nine, Ten,” Tikki finished.

“You’ve all raised your hands. You’re going to the realm,” Duusu said.

Marinette put her hand down and opened her eyes.

“Remember there is a chance that you may be separated once in the Quantic Realm,” Tikki warned them.

“It’s fine,” Marinette said, trying to sound more confident than she felt. Staring at her reflection in the pool she didn’t look anything but scared. Adrien’s reflection in the pool met her eyes. He winked and her, and she found herself smiling back.

“Bring it on,” Nino added.

Around the pool of water, the four of them could just form a square across the circle if they stretched out their arms. More of a rhombus since Marinette’s arms were so much shorter than everyone else’s. Marinette took Adrien’s hand on her right, and Chloé’s in her left. Nino took Adrien and Chloé’s hands opposite her.

“Now look at yourself in the water, and then close your eyes.” Raafa instructed,

Marinette did as she was told. After she shut her eyes the world shook. She felt her grip tighten, like an electric pulse running through the four of them, potatoes connected by wires, they all squeezed each other’s hands. Even if they would be separated, they would try their hardest to stay together.


	14. The Geometry of Being Shipwrecked

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A.K.A. the chapter with a _shameless _amount of references.__
> 
> __

They were standing in the middle of a vast mountain plain. Marinette was grasping straws trying to process her surroundings. She likened it to inside Raven’s head from the original, forever better, Teen Titans series, or one of the regions in Lyoko, always filled with floating rocks. Thinking that way was dumbing it down so her brain wouldn’t explode. It was truly unlike anything she had ever seen. The sky was mostly a dark, grayish blue, but where it met the black mountains, Marinette could have sworn she saw hints of red. Deep purple clouds filled the sky. The ground itself was a dusty plane that, when examined closely, seemed to sparkle. It was chilly enough to start shivering.

_It was like Mars, but colored in with glitter pen by unicorns,_ Marinette thought to herself before she could stop the disastrous train of thought. Judging from the way other rocks floated, their bottoms like jagged icicles, they were standing on something similarly floating on air. The rocks were each covered by a thin, ethereal glow. They were a better light source than the moon, which was a waning crescent haphazardly hanging in the sky.

_How crazy would it be to create a dress from the colors of this landscape?_ Was another off-topic thought Marinette couldn’t help but think.

“What’s all the glowing stuff?” Nino wondered aloud.

“It looks like this species of glow-in-the-dark algae Sabrina told me about once during lecture,” Adrien said. “Or, you know, it could just be magic.”

Tikki chuckled. “You are right about the algae, which is all science. But very advanced technology does have a history of being thought of as magic by those who don’t understand it. We kwami love science. Way less energy-draining for us to use than magic.”

“You see that summit up there?” Duusu flew toward it. “You can talk to Nooroo there. Part of what we have brought you here for.”

“Thanks for the advanced warning about the hike,” Chloé said.

“It should be no problem for the lot of you, when transformed,” Plagg challenged.

Once they were transformed, Marinette still felt like something was off. Her teeth chattered slightly. _I’m cold. I’m actually still cold, even in costume?_ It had never happened before. The others seemed to have noticed too. Without much else to go on, they started running.

Getting to the summit involved hopping onto three levels of boulders which were beginning to register in Marinette’s brain as both space rocks and the fighting platforms of Super Smash. The peak of the final platform was hardest to reach because it was a near vertical climb intercepted by platforms. _It’s just like bouldering,_ Marinette thought to herself. _Easier than that_ , she amended, because they had their weapons and costumes to help, and Celeste could fly. The land at the top was unchanged—dusty, glittery, bioluminescent. An arch, maybe three meters tall, that was darker, more violet-red, they couldn’t see until now cast a shadow over the four of them. They stared up at the arch and waited.

“Nooroo is here?” Ladybug asked after a few minutes of nothing happening. Chat had started spinning his baton lazily in his hand, and Honeybee had started pacing.

Then it was happening again, the feeling of Tikki surging through her like fire lighting up her veins. When she heard herself speak, it wasn’t just her voicing coming out of her mouth. “Nooroo cannot appear in its true form. We, as kwami currently connected to human hosts, remain in our Earth form, but otherwise, all the gods here would appear to you as something else. Something human eyes are not meant to see. Feeling the gods’ presence in this realm is taxing enough. The arch is a channel. It will fuel the god’s presence into something you can interact with. Nooroo, please come out. They need to know.”

“Miraculous holders.” A voice boomed from the arch. One Ladybug did not recognize, but that she guessed was Nooroo’s. “I never did get to thank you for what you did,” the voice said. “Thank you, truly.”

Nooroo’s voice carried more than sound. There was a weight, an energy that pierced them the way extreme cold did. “It’s always painful when something goes wrong with the host. It is human nature to change, but as a kwami you hope to help your human become something better, not worse.”

The four of them stood around, waiting. Honeybee was the one with the nerve to ask. “If you are so powerful and great and all, why couldn’t you just leave if you thought your host wasn’t worthy anymore?”

“We made a binding contract,” Nooroo replied. “I gave my word. Just as you all did. I hope you do not take your words lightly. They have the power to shape futures and change lives, very directly, in this case. I was also progressively weakened because Gabriel had become corrupted. When we make a contract, we offer a piece of ourselves. We make ourselves vulnerable. It can strengthen us, if the contract is good, but it can weaken us even more if it is bad.” The voice paused, and Ladybug heard snippets of the lingering static. The arch was probably some sort of channel for the voice to go through. She stole a glance at Chat, who was standing with his back rigid, facing straight forward, his lips pressed into a thin line.

“And because you may have all been wondering, Gabriel doesn’t remember anything, truly,” Nooroo confirmed. “None of the akumatized people ever remember anything because I take their memories from them. I think of it as a mercy, although some disagree with me. Is that what you are here for? I can give you two the memories back, if you so desire. I’ve kept all of them.”

Celeste and Honeybee looked around furtively. Each of them had since heard of what they did while they were akumatized, but it would be different, being able to relive it vividly in their own heads.

“Make you decisions wisely. Make sure they are yours and yours alone,” Nooroo advised. “Don’t let other people’s judgement determine your choice. You can tell me later, if you choose yes or no.”

“Later? Nino asked.

“Later.” Nooroo spoke past the miraculous users, and to the kwami inhabiting them. “I can sense from Tikki that the memories are not what they are here for. What is it, then?”

“We need to make sure the pieces of Volpina are coming back together.” Tikki spoke through Ladybug, who was a little off-put each time. “To know it’s working. Since we can’t check with Trixx, the closest is you, because of what happened and because you are currently the only kwami with no physical ties to Earth, as you don’t have a host yet.”

“It is working,” Nooroo said. “I have proof of it right here.” Under the arch a sphere of purple light materialized, resembling a semi-translucent balloon. Inside the sphere were the fragments of Volpina’s necklace. Two were free floating, but the others had clustered together to form a larger shape. It was reassuring to see the curved edge, even just in part.

“Trixx saved me. Trixx made the biggest sacrifice to do it, I will guard its charm until it has fully reformed and can materialize on earth. You kids are doing amazing.” Nooroo proceeded to speak in circles.

“Though I am still weakened, I am powerful enough in this realm to fulfil your request. Who brought it up first? Duusu? Raafa. No. I bet it was Plagg, although he would never admit it.”

“It was, and we all agreed,” Tikki-as-Marinette said.

“Without consulting your human hosts?” Nooroo chuckled darkly. “You have to understand how conflicted I would felt about that, given how trust can be manipulated.”

Suddenly, Ladybug felt herself de-transform. She was Marinette again, in a blue sweater too thin for Paris but warm in Egypt, black skinny jeans and ankle boots she had bought because the soles resembled sneakers more. Standing around her were her friends in their civilian forms as well. All the other kwami were floating nearby. Marinette was relieved to not be the only one out of costume, and relieved that Tikki wasn’t talking through her, although she felt bad for thinking so.

“We weren’t sure if you would do it or not,” Tikki admitted. She was floating a meter in front of Marinette, and looked incredibly small amid the vast space.

“That’s a load of crap. Of course, I would do it,” Nooroo said. “They saved my life. The least I could do is give them each a Gift. If they can handle it.”

“They have the choice here,” Raafa said defensively. “If they choose no, we’ll leave it as it is.”

“Please, as if they could say anything but yes,” Nooroo scoffed.

“Yes to what?” Marinette asked.

It was Plagg that answered. “You can accept Nooroo’s Gift here. A kwami’s Gift is like a charm. It can make you a more powerful host. It can only be received in this realm, which is why it is so rare in the first place. It is different from making a contract, as it stays with you forever. Even if you were to give up your miraculous, you would still have Nooroo’s Gift. As extra protection, if you will.”

“Because of its permanency, gifts always appear on your body. Always somewhere on the inner left wrist, no larger than a penny. Always resembling a faint tattoo or scar. Those of you with modelling careers may want to reconsider,” Raafa added.

Adrien shrugged. “Tattoos are easily covered with makeup. I want more information. You guys are talking about this Gift like it’s dangerous.”

“It’s not dangerous, but it is a process,” Duusu warned. “You’ll all have to perform an incantation while transformed. You’ll allow yourself to be more vulnerable to the Quantic Realm. And you’ll be separated, briefly.”

“We call it a Gift, but it is not given, it is earned,” Tikki said. “You will each go on your own journeys to earn it, if you accept.”

“You’re right Tikki. I couldn’t have said no,” Marinette sighed. “When I accepted the miraculous, I was accepting all the craziness it came with. At this point, isn’t this just another layer on the cake? If you all are so concerned about the Gift, I have reason to be too. But it’s not going to stop me. Not if it helps as much as you say it will as well.”

“I’m with Marinette on this one,” Adrien said.

The miraculous users transformed again, and stood in a circle, hand and hand under the arch. They felt the Nooroo’s presence like moisture in the air. The incantation was one line. Impulsively, Ladybug closed her eyes, even if it meant not seeing the colors her friends were glowing with.

The four miraculous users spoke simultaneously. “We open our minds to the Gifts of the Quantic gods.”

 

Suddenly, Ladybug was alone. Technically, Tikki was with her, but she stood by herself, on a different floating platform, looking out at an expanse of darkness glittered with stars. They looked like stars, but Ladybug knew implicitly it was the same glitter dust that surrounded the rocks. She heard Nooroo voice overhead.

“It’s a good thing you said yes, Ladybug. Otherwise, Volpina would have done more damage.”

“How do you mean?” At least this test of sorts did not include her being suddenly pelted with flaming fireballs or having to duel underwater. An omnipresent voice and more conversation, she could handle it. She hoped the others were doing just as well.

The voice boomed. “What do you know about how Volpina has been appearing in your world?”

Ladybug responded as if she had been trained for it, using the terminology and phrasing she’d heard tossed and around again and again this past month. Populations, negative energy, build up.

“You heroes have a plan all laid out, right? Volpina activates with the lot of you as its trigger,” Nooroo speculated. “It’s convenient for you, but it won’t hold for long if you don’t quell the energy building up around the shards in the remaining cities.”

Ladybug swallowed. It sounded like yet another field trip.

“From Cairo, because it is a World Centre, you can connect to other realms like this one,” the voice overhead explained. “You can reach the shards, which are always linked to the quantic realm, no matter what. To earn the Gift, you each get a different shard to quell. Quelling the shard will stop the process of the akuma forming. The shard you must stall is the one in Shanghai. It is doubly powerful, because it is in another World Centre.”

Nooroo presence went out like a flame, and Ladybug felt another one she was acutely accustomed to. Tendrils of smoke started to appear in the atmosphere until they materialized into a large fox. However, this shadow creature wasn’t the color Ladybug was used to seeing. It was still composed of what seemed like shifting, semi-transparent material, but it was a vivid orange. Its pupils were white, and its eyes glowed with the same brand of fire. Ladybug reached for her yo-yo.

This akuma was different from all the other ones she had seen, and not just because of its appearance. Maybe it was because she was in the quantic realm itself, or because Tikki had just possessed her moments ago, but Ladybug knew by staring into its eyes that it wasn’t the monster the world made it out to be. Ladybug herself made it a point to distinguish between akuma and monsters, between the corrupted butterflies and foxes, and the humans themselves. It wasn’t a monster. It was just sad, angry, and homesick piece of a god that wanted to be whole again.

Ladybug clamped her hand into a fist, instead of grabbing the yo-yo.

“Volpina… No. TRIXX!” She shouted. At the sound of its own name the fox froze. Its ears perked up and its nose twitched. Ladybug swore it would have been adorable if she wasn’t still in danger. “I want to help you. Please, let me!”

She offered the hand that wasn’t hovering protectively as a fist around her yo-yo like offering a dog to sniff it. Volpina surged forward and Ladybug tried not to flinch as a sharp gust of wind hit her. The fox nuzzled her palm, licked it, and then bit her hand.

Ladybug yelped and swore for days, but abruptly stopped when she heard the chuckle of a low, husky voice. Her left hand flared with pain and then went numb. Even if there was still pain, Ladybug might not had noticed, with the sensations spreading through every crevice of her mind like air. She saw the city in fragments. Masses and masses of people passing by, each carrying the weight of their past on their shoulders, either burning with hope or dulled with disappointment. Volpina breathed in the emotions, and for a second all of it transferred to Ladybug. She felt the shadows building up and choking her like smoke.

The collective agony of an entire population of a city—without the triumphs and highs to balance it out—made her shudder. Her own problems, about school and tuition and hoping above all that Adrien and her parents and her friends were okay, dulled in comparison to the challenges some had to face in day-to-day life. The fox was able to sharpen each emotion into a needle and prick her with it. No wonder Volpina lashed out the moment she amassed enough power. Ladybug could help. She wasn’t sure how the others would fare, Ladybug could give Volpina an outlet for her energy, no matter how brief. If their ultimate goal was to purify Volpina, Ladybug could take a more direct approach.

Ladybug grabbed her yo-yo and bonked the fox on the head with it. “De-evilize.”

A swarm of ladybugs emerged. They surprised her because they were a kind of iridescent black, dark, but shimmering, and unlike anything she had ever seen on Earth. Was everything in this realm predisposed to glitter? Was Tikki’s true form glittery? Was Plagg’s?

The ebony ladybugs swarmed around the fox, speeding up to the point that they were only a blur, a cyclone of black and dark gray. Ladybug got dizzy looking at it, and had to take a few steps back, just from the force of the wind. She shielded her head with a hand, head bent over slightly, and it was a good thing she did because she felt heat and saw pink and knew that just beyond her palm was a blinding flash of light. When the heat subsided Marinette removed her hand, and squinted cautiously.

The fox that appeared before her was the orange color she was used to seeing at zoos. Its eyes were a rainy, solemn grey. It stepped toward her, and Ladybug made a knee-jerk response with her yo-yo, which had gotten tangled around the fox’s neck like a collar. She pulled the yo-yo away from the fox at the same time the akuma (did it still count as an akuma in its own realm?) freed itself from the strings, took a bunch of them in its mouth, and spat them back out like watermelon seeds. Propelled by both forces, Ladybug could do nothing but watch her yo-yo fly. It rocketed away, its string stretching longer than she thought possible, and stopped when it hit something solid, and heard the sound of glass shattering.

What had she done? It seemed as if the surrounding space was made of mirrors, like she was trapped in a funhouse, and she had cracked several against the wall. Fragments of space chipped away to reveal scenes from other places, and people (humanoids, at least) she had never seen before. As she was currently transformed, some of Tikki knowledge transferred to her and she recognized other gods and the people involved with them, each with their own stories.

There were a lot of teens. It seemed it didn’t matter what kind of god you were. If you interacted with humans to any degree, those humans tended to be pre-teens or teenagers with varying degrees of competence. She saw a black-haired girl in a sailor uniform standing near a boy in a track suit and another, younger blond boy wearing a green parka. Their eyes seemed to glow, violet-red, ice blue, and orange. She saw an eclectic group of teenagers in orange and purple T-shirts looking like they were in summer camp, but with magic. She saw another group in flowing Chinese _haifu_ of a time long-past, and an intricate hair pin with a leaf motif flashing gold.

Then, she felt like she couldn’t breathe.

Her head was splitting in two and she was drowning at the same time. It was a mix of crushing pressure and burning pain, and Ladybug just wanted to take one nice, deep breath. Her throat felt like ash, though, and her nose was stuffed. It was even colder now and Ladybug, not, not Ladybug, _Marinette,_ felt like she wasn’t supposed to be here. _No. I’m Ladybug. I’m Ladybug now, even when I’m Marinette, and Tikki trusts you._ She willed her body to move because the alternative, of remaining frozen and scared and trapped, was too horrifying to think about. When she was startled she had to move, if only as an outlet for the nervous energy. She retracted her yo-yo, managed a deep breath, and swung it out again. The string caught around something and curved. Ladybug braced her feet and pulled hard.

She felt something wet and slobbery on her face, and then she was light as air again. As the rapid pounding in her head subsided she found herself staring into a pair of obsidian eyes. Volpina had licked her face, which weirded her out on many levels.

“Dear child. Some things you aren’t meant to see or know about.” The fox spoke the same way Nooroo did, as if through surround-sound speakers. “It is always dangerous to know about the existence of other gods when you are so deeply tied to one kind.”

“Trixx?” Ladybug said it again because she wasn’t sure when the last time the kwami had heard its name spoken aloud. It must have been terribly lonely. “Trixx. Trixx.”

“I am gratified you know my name,” Trixx said. “Thank you for helping me. The suffering will subside, if just for a little while.”

“Thank _you_ ,” Ladybug said. “For what you did for Nooroo.”

Trixx blinked and was silent for several seconds, before responding. “I just didn’t want to see another god die.”

“Would Nooroo really have?” Ladybug asked in a small voice.

“It was growing weaker and weaker. It was also painful to watch the damage inflicted,” Trixx admitted. “This situation is better.”

“But, now, you…”

“It’s up to you kids to fix that, isn’t it?” Trixx chuckled darkly. The sound nearly resembled a purr. Trixx’s eyes were so dark they looked infinite. Being next to Trixx was standing over a volcano, being able to feel tectonic plates shift. It radiated potential like it radiated sadness. “Thank you, for calling my name. For trying to talk to me.”

“I-I’m sorry. Every if it couldn’t be helped, I’m sorry this is what it had to come down to.” Ladybug slumped her shoulders until the fox expertly used its tail to tickle her chin, causing her to squirm and look up. Point taken.

Ladybug refocused on the task at hand. “How about the others? If you go all akuma on them, they don’t have my purifying abilities.”

“They are faring decently. I can take you to them and end the battles more quickly.”

“O-only if it won’t put too much of a strain on Tikki.”

Trixx chuckled. “Trust me child, your kwami is more powerful than you can even imagine. And right now, she is home.”

Trixx bent its head down low and let Ladybug climb on. As per instructions, she wrapped her arms around its neck as far as they would go and clung to a fistful of fur.

“Where to first?” The fox kwami, turned reverse-Trojan horse, asked.

 

When the sky opened up and a flash of orange, with Ladybug riding behind it, appeared among the black, Chat Noir raised an eyebrow as he dodged a swipe of Volpina’s paw. (The shadow-akuma creature one he had been fighting, and not the one Ladybug was _evidently, right in front of him._ riding bareback). With a swipe of his extended baton, he pushed the fox away and back-flipped to stand next to Ladybug, who had slipped off her ride.

“To what do I owe the pleasure?” He sounded mildly breathless.

Ladybug smirked at him and then turned her attention to the akuma. “De-evilize.”

As the black ladybugs swarmed, she did not feel the drop in energy she expected, which usually happened after she used Tikki’s powers continuously. Oddly enough, she felt fine. There was no surge in energy, but there wasn’t a drop either. Interesting.

Ladybug grabbed Chat and spun them around so that they faced away from the bright flash. “How did you deal with it?” “It” meaning the Gift, she couldn’t bring herself to clarify.

Ladybug regretted asking when she saw the way Chat winced, but it was important, and she figured it was better than his keeping it in. He would, until it ate him up, if she didn’t ask directly.

“It was a lot,” Chat managed to say. “But it’s over now. This isn’t.” Chat ran his paws through his hair and said his next sentences with growing confidence, like he didn’t just feel an entire population’s woes. “We can compare notes later. Don’t we have two more stops to make?” Chat offered her and hand, and she took it as they climbed onto Trixx once the akuma flickered and faded out.

“I was in Shanghai.” Ladybug kept her mood light. “Which city did you get?”

“São Paulo.”

 

They caught up with Celeste next, who did a double take with the kind of expression that made Ladybug suspect he’d thought he was hallucinating. Given his flight abilities, he was doing a good job of avoiding direct hits from the fox. Instead of the wide-open spaces Ladybug and Chat had found themselves in, Celeste had an overhang of reddish brown boulders to maneuver between. He was playing a game of cat and mouse among the rocks, although which one he was changed constantly. A favored move was using shorter bursts of wind to kick up dust. Ladybug narrowly avoided a shattering of rocks as Trixx landed a couple meters from were Celeste had flown from. The akuma’s back was to Ladybug. Chat stayed on their ride as Ladybug sprinted forward, veering out of the way of the akuma’s tail.

Ladybug whipped her yo-yo up and swung it until it circled overhead so quickly it resembled a thin, bright ring. “De-evilize.”

Celeste’s opponent was gone in a cloud of smoke. Celeste lowered himself to the ground. Trixx, with Chat on its back, padded over.

“How in the—you know what, it doesn’t matter. Magic, Whatever.” Celeste said in a voice that was both irritated and impressed. “Thanks for the save.”

“You technically didn’t need it. If you had kept fighting for long enough to wear the akuma out, it would have been gone eventually,” Trixx explained to the miraculous users.

“Like hack-and-slash at monsters grinding for points in a video game,” Celeste speculated.

“I’m afraid that particular terminology sounds ridiculous to me,” Trixx said. “You humans breed lexicon like rabbits populate themselves. It’s exhausting to keep up with.”

Celeste looked like he was about to argue with Trixx, and attempt to explain the words, but Chat put a hand on his shoulder.

“How was it?” Chat Noir asked more quickly than Ladybug had dared to.

Celeste turned so that there was a glare across his goggles, hiding his eyes from view. “Bro, LB, do you even have to ask?” Celeste looked up and patted Trixx’s fur softly. “I would rather you tell us how you made a new friend,” he said to Ladybug.

“After we pick up the last passenger,” Ladybug promised.

 

The initial shock from their arrival quickly turned into an eye roll and exasperated sigh.

“What took you so long?” Honeybee sniped as she managed to wrap her whip around the akuma’s snout. It snapped its jaws shut trying to get its new muzzle off.

“There was some traffic on the road,” Ladybug shot back. “Not terrible, but some.”

Honeybee did not respond as she danced around with the pull of the whip. The akuma shuddered and shook as Honeybee released the whip with a crack across the akuma’s face. Ladybug admired the vicious efficiency, even as the benevolent Trixx and the boys visibly winced. The akuma itself was getting hazy around its edges, most noticeably, at the tips of its ears. It was as if it was made of bright orange clay, and steadily becoming worn and cracked at the surface and crumbling.

“I had it covered,” Honeybee responded, a bit later.

Ladybug shot out her yo-yo. “No doubt. Just want to speed things up for you,” she sing-songed. “De-evilize.”

With the final akuma gone, the girls turned their attention to Trixx, who Celeste and Chat had hopped down from. It stretched back, and shut its eyes as it yawned. For a moment, they all though they had seen pure happiness in the form of a smiling fox.

“The fighting you all did in this realm should keep the fragments at bay until you reach them on your world,” Trixx said. In another show of gratitude, the kwami escorted them away.

They scampered down when they reached their destination. Once everyone got their balance on solid ground, Trixx paced in a circle, looking off to the landscape before turning back to them. With a bow of its head Trixx was gone, leaving them standing exactly where they had started.

They didn’t de-transform immediately. The shock of what they had just been through was sinking into their bones and their transformations were a part of it. None of them were quite ready to shed their second skin, so instead, they stood in stasis, floating like the algae that illuminated the vast landscape. Ladybug thought of clothing that had stuck out to her on the street or on blogs in the past week.

Honeybee broke the silence after a few minutes. Although, if it had been seconds or days, Ladybug wasn’t sure she would have known the difference. “Nino,” Honeybee said.

It was well-established that they _always_ referred to each other by their alter egos in costume, so the name caused a jolt. “Did Nooroo offer to restore your memories after we all got separated? It’s what happened to me, even before Trixx, the akuma one I fought, not our new friend, appeared.”

“Yeah, he did,” Celeste said in a low voice. He looked each of them in the eye and answered with his shoulders squared. “I rejected his offer. I found out everything I needed to know about the attack afterwards, from Adrien and everyone else at the party… Except Marinette, now that I think about it, which makes a lot of sense.” Celeste pointed his staff playfully toward Ladybug, then stabbed his staff at the ground again, leaning on it. “I’ve spent a long time wondering what exactly happened. Memory gaps suck, you know. But, at this point, I think I know everything I need to.”

The other three regarded Honeybee with the silent question.

“I asked for them back,” she admitted. Honeybee stared at her feet before shifting her gaze back up, past the three of them and into the other-worldly horizon. “I needed to know for myself, and there wasn’t anyone I could ask who would be helpful when I was still actively thinking about it. It hasn’t crossed my mind for a while, but once Nooroo brought it up, it was like I was fifteen again.” Honeybee moved her plait so that it was hanging over her left shoulder and twirled it absentmindedly with her fingers. “I guess I have something else to apologize to Sabrina for. I can even fill in the gaps in her memory too, if she wants.”

Marinette couldn’t help but think of her first kiss with Chat. The one Adrien didn’t remember, that she filled him in on later. Would he want the memory back, even though he technically knew what had happened? Or would he be content as it was? Knowing Adrien, it was probably the former.

Ladybug didn’t have too much time to dwell on Honeybee’s choice, as it turned out their exit was not going to be the same as the entrance, and they needed to find their way back to Giza. Ladybug was still occupying a strange sort of mind space, and could hear Tikki’s voice in her head. It still sent pricks up Ladybug’s spike and reminded her of their last battle with Hawkmoth, which made her heart clench.

Tikki informed the party using Ladybug’s vocal chords that they had to find another pool of water to use as a portal.

“Why are there two portals that only go one way?” Chat asked, scratching his ear.

“There are a lot more than two,” Tikki said. “To put it in simple terms, one-way portals are a lot more cost-efficient to maintain.”

“I don’t know,” Celeste said. “Maybe the realm just wants to confuse the tourists.”

They did not run into any tourists on their way past several boulders. The miraculous holders crossed a thin strip of violet-red rock that acted as a bridge without any railings. The first pool they passed, which was a deep jump off a cliff, was apparently not the portal they were looking for.

(“That one’s um, no.” Tikki-via-Ladybug said. “Just don’t think about it. You do NOT want to go there. Due to a stupid bet, that doorway has not been the same since the eleventh century.” Later, Marinette would be able to gleam more info out of Tikki—but only that the portal led to not Earth.)

Their actual portal was on another expanse of flat ground. One they had to complete a short, but steep, hike to reach. The pool of rock had no algae in it. The slim amount of light reflecting from the water was a result of the moon overhead. Following Tikki’s instructions, Ladybug de-transformed as they approached the pool.

“This is our way back,” Marinette said in her own voice. Marinette pet Tikki gently. It was reassuring to have her kwami back to the form she could touch and feed. The others de-transformed as well, following her cue. They formed a square around the pool and took each other’s hands. The reflections in the pools rippled around as they stared.

\--

 

The smog in Cairo was bad, Marinette realized as they backtracked from Giza. Marinette thought that their entire trip to the other realm couldn’t have taken over 4 hours, but when they got back, they realized a little over double that time have passed, they had more than half a day—and that wasn’t even including the battle in Cairo itself.

Thing was, they had entered the labyrinth Saturday, but it had spit them out early Sunday. Once everyone realized the time lapse, the panic set in. They experienced first-hand what it was like to jog through the labyrinth like a sort of realistic RPG exercise. Marinette knew Alya was skilled at making excuses for all of them, but it didn’t change the fact that they had essentially lost an entire day. They weren’t gone that long, everyone was reassuring each other. If anyone asked, they were just out and about like normal university students, procrastinating on homework, getting caught in train delays, hanging out with friends. Nothing special had happened at all. It had been a run-of-the-mill weekend.

To keep up the pretense no unplanned, spectacular events had occurred, Marinette had to rush to her parents’ bakery late afternoon, a few hours late for her usual lunch visit. Marinette had stopped taking shifts at the bakery at the start of December. Her parents understood it was because of projects and finals, which was one reason.

“Girl, you owe me. All of you owe me.” Alya filled Marinette in over the phone as Marinette raced from Norte Dame to her parents’. “They tried calling like five times. You must have seen the messages. I told Tom and Sabine that you probably forgot about your phone, buried in work at the atelier. Mention that I had tried to reach you like seven times, which is another fib I cooked up. On that note, Adrien had some photoshoot. Excuses for him are always easy. Quit worrying your parents. I’m meeting my family now. I have to go. But deets, later. Ciao.”

Marinette confirmed all of Alya’s explanations when she got to the bakery late in the afternoon.  Her parents were sheepish about all the missed calls, but not particularly bothered. Adrien joined Marinette and her parents for supper that evening. He mentioned he’d been talking to his father as part of the reason he was late. Which, at the very least, wasn’t false.

“It was as usual,” Adrien said, with a glance at Marinette, who decided now wasn’t the time to press.

When the dust finally settled and Marinette was walking with Adrien back to the apartment, they walked in silence, enjoying the cityscape at night. Adrien brought up Gabriel once, but only to confirm that Marinette was going to dine with them in a couple weeks. Marinette mulled over recent events and her thoughts kept drifting back to Chloé’s decision to get her memories back, as opposed to Nino’s. After sitting on it for what was left of the night, she sent a text to Chloé because, try as she might, she just couldn’t get to sleep.

 

**[Marinette Dupain-Cheng @ 01h43]**

**You do not have to keep looking for reasons to regret the past.**

**I just wanted to let you know.**

**[Chloé Bourgeois @ 01h55]**

**How nice of you to be able to say so.**

**Damn you, Saint Marinette.**

That Chloé was awake that late was possibly a bad sign.

**[Marinette Dupain-Cheng @ 01h57]**

**I know the advice was a bit hypocritical, but… I wanted to make sure you knew anyway.**

**[Chloé Bourgeois @ 01h58]**

**Hypocritical? What could you possibly have to regret, little-miss-perfect?**

**[Marinette Dupain-Cheng @ 02h00]**

**You’re not being fair to either of us, and you know it.**

 

Marinette answered the phone before it even started ringing.

“It’s just not good to dwell so much on old memories that it interferes with your present,” Marinette said in a hurry before Chloe could get a word in. “New-old memories.”

“I knew seeing myself at fifteen again was going to be a weird experience,” Chloé said. “I just didn’t realize how much it would suck. I was really awful.”

“You got better,” Marinette said. “We all did. I cringe at some of the things I did, which is why I try not to think about it too often.”

“Does going through all the things you ever did wrong in your head still give you pangs of guilt?” Chloé sighed into the phone. “The type you know you won’t ever be able to shake?”

“All the time,” Marinette said softly. When it came down to it, she had made mistakes, many of which were tied to hasty assumptions. She could have been a lot kinder, a lot more considerate. A part of her accepted that she would spend her entire life trying not to repeat those mistakes.

“I’m going to talk to Sabrina tomorrow,” Chloé resolved. “She visits her grandparents most weekends. They don’t allow phones at the dinner table, and then it seemed too late to call because she always does something with them, a board game or trivia or something. I’m not quite sure how to bring it up.”

Marinette nodded, which she immediately realized was silly, because Chloé couldn’t see her. “I have to talk to Alya tomorrow. We’re going to be in such a state that I think we should just tell them everything.”

“Friends are for keeping secrets, right?”

“I asked Tikki about some of her previous hosts. After listening to the kwami’s convos, I just had to know,” Marinette said suddenly. The stories were whispered in her ear like the key to an encryption. Marinette had told Adrien the bare bones afterwards, “What she told me deserves a whole other conversation, but this is it, essentially. You learn lessons from your regrets and mistakes. Even if, especially if you never shake it, you can’t let it shake you. You learn to love with everything wrong you ever done, in hopes of minimizing future damage.”

Marinette heard shuffling, and then the click of a lamp being turned off. “I asked Raafa about some of her past hosts, too,” Chloé said. “She indulged my curiosity. I’m just realizing the amount of her history I must not know. It’s probably too much to tell me in a lifetime. Anyway, that’s wise advice, Tikki’s words.”

“Tikki’s good at that stuff.”

“Now, I’d hate to end this confession, but I have to get my beauty sleep to keep those gods happy, so.” Chloé clicked her tongue, which made Marinette chuckle.

“Good night,” Marinette said.

Marinette sat in the dark for a few minutes, watching Tikki, who was already asleep. She hadn’t been talking all that quietly, she realized. Gingerly, Marinette got up from her desk and crept closer to the wall. “Adrien?”

“I didn’t mean to eavesdrop,” Adrien said from the other side.

“Don’t worry about it,” Marinette said. “It’s broadly applicable advice, by the way. Like, maybe the-other-realm-we-were-just-in level of broad. Or, a bit smaller. I’m not saying it applies to all things or people, and no one is compelled to take it, and the last thing I want to do is force someone to do something they might not be ready for and… oh, I’m too sleepy for this.” Marinette yawned. “There was a whole separate speech I was working in too.”

Adrien’s chuckle vibrated though the wall. “We’ll talk in the morning.”


	15. The Price of Magic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adrien learns some family history.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A chunk of this story has already been posted as the separate work _Past Lives_. While reading this chapter, you can skip over it if you've already read it. What Plagg recounts is basically the same. Enjoy!

 

With his schedule approved by his father, Adrien knew the next week would pass in a flurry, with his focus on school. Advertising season was over, and his father was content to let Adrien’s booking schedule ease up. He planned to start studying. Although finals were weeks away, it was best to start early, and his childhood had instilled the habit of being over-prepared to meet his father’s standards. Adrien didn’t see Marinette that morning. He had lecture that Monday, and would likely run into Alya on campus. Sabrina was in his class, and customarily sat next to him.

On the way to university Adrien recalled everything he had overheard from Marinette’s conversation. He’d guessed the person on the other end of the phone was Chlo, based on the context and Marinette’s tone. He’d also texted her and asked.

 

**[Adrien Agreste @ 02h15]**

**Did you just get off the phone with Marinette?**

**[Chloé Bourgeois @ 02h16]**

**I know you were taught better than to listen in on other people’s conversations, Adrikins.**

**I did, because I’m about to go to sleep.**

**[Adrien Agreste @ 02h15]**

**It was right next door. I couldn’t help but overhear. I just wanted to confirm it was you. Don’t be so stingy.**

**[Chloé Bourgeois @ 02h16]**

**AUGH. You just _had_ to, didn’t you? UGH, you have ruined my entire day now thanks.**

He’d decided not to point out that the “day” was long over, because Chlo would have not backed down, and they would end up bickering over who was worse.

 

Adrien slid in to sit next to Sabrina. He said good morning brightly, then asked in a hushed tone: “How much do you know?” At the same time, the phone in his hand buzzed.

“Didn’t you check the chatroom?” Sabrina asked. “We’re meeting for lunch to talk about it.”

He shook his head. Adrien had been so out of it, Plagg had to put his phone and his keys in his hands, to ensure he didn’t forget them. They still had five minutes before class, so he checked his phone.

 

**[Marinette Dupain-Cheng @ 08h25]**

**I can’t believe you punned right before going to bed. Do you have a quota to fill or something?**

Ah, Marinette must have heard from Chlo.

 

**[Adrien Agreste @ 08h28]**

**Yes, actually. It’s a weekly quota, and I was running low of late. I need to step up my game. It’s hard to pun at the same fox monster every week. Once you use “for fox sake” and “can’t be outfoxed” more than three times, it gets boring.**

 

Adrien put the phone away as class began. He knew Sabrina made meticulous notes, color-coded and covered with post-its, to study. The legal pad where she scrawled her in-class notes was covered in a rushed script that was still neater than most other people’s normal handwriting. From what Adrien gleamed, Sabrina was reviewing was Intro to Chemistry notes. She barely looked up from them when she spoke. “You didn’t even check the chatroom, did you?”

“No, I got distracted.”

Sabrina clicked her tongue disapprovingly. “Just meet me ten before noon by the front gate. Alya and I are planning on walking there together.”

They stopped talking as the professor started the PowerPoint and didn’t speak until saying their goodbyes at the end of lecture.

The meet-up turned out to be in Chloé’s suite because it was conveniently located, and they didn’t want to eat at an open café for fear of being overheard, or worse, photographed. At the time leading up to Hawkmoth’s defeat, they’d crashed Chloé’s suite too. They couldn’t bother Master Fu, whose place still seemed like a formal mesh between a classroom and a temple, and who hadn’t approved of their plans. Adrien’s mansion was just as center, but house guests were troublesome even if they weren’t the heroes plotting against the owner of the house. Marinette’s parents always interrupted well-meaningly with snacks. Since Chloé’s dad largely left her alone unless she demanded attention from him, without a hovering personal assistant, her suite had been the best choice.

As per Nino’s request, instead of ordering room service, they got food from the Spanish place because he had been craving _tapas_ and _coca_ and no, pizza was totally different and not an adequate substitute. They ate and made small talk for fifteen minutes before Alya brought up the subject.

“How was Cairo?”

“Cairo was fine,” Marinette said. “We defeated the akuma, as you know. All the interesting stuff happened in Giza.”

Nino mentioned the other realm, and then Marinette confessed to wanting to make a dress inspired by the sky there. The snowball effect was immediate. They recounted the experience with as much distance as they could, like soldiers reminiscing about grand adventures instead of prodding fresh wounds.

Adrien learned a lot listening to the others. He found out the specifics of each person’s fight and, more interestingly, how Ladybug decided to befriend the creature she was fighting. Whereas Chat Noir’s first reaction to the pain he felt was to muscle through it and fight back, Ladybug had gone with the more diplomatic route.

“I just thought that it was so sad that it hadn’t been called by its actual name in a long time,” Marinette admitted. “I mean, it still bit me afterwards, but things worked out.” She patted Tikki’s head, who was hovering around her host, assuredly. The other kwami had run off to likely cause mischief right away.

“So you guys managed to stall,” Alya affirmed. “Can work through the schedule without things blowing up in your face, quite literally?”

“Let’s hope,” Marinette sighed.

“I mean, it would have been possible but also inconvenient to gear up for battle over the holidays,” Nino pointed out. “This right here gives us room to breathe.”

“That’s good,” Alya said as she finished her soda.

“For one, there is the Christmas party that Rosé is organizing for the old gang,” Sabrina said. “Basically a _collège_ reunion, and we’re in Paris. We can’t not go.” Sabrina looked pointedly at Chloé, as if bringing up an argument they were in the middle of.

“It will be good to see everyone again,” Alya added excitedly. “See what crazy stuff they’re up to.”

“I think everyone’s lives would be crazy even without this,” Adrien mused. “It’s a period of transition, after all.”

“You were thinking of avoiding a party?” Nino looked at Chloé skeptically.

Chloé frowned. “They might not want to see me. Rosé invites everyone because she’s nice.”

“She invited everyone because she genuinely wants to see everyone,” Sabrina said. “Don’t spoil her fun by not going.”

Marinette nudged Chloé, who she was sitting next to, with her elbow. “Parties are great distractions, right? You seem like you could use one,” she said as Alya declared she was ordering dessert from room service.

\--

 

On Sunday night, Marinette had sat down and asked Tikki to tell her about some of their past lives. Plagg had blatantly refused when Adrien had tried the same thing. When Adrien was back at the apartment that evening on Monday he tried again.

“I’m going to tell you another, more interesting story about the past.” Plagg said.

Adrien regarded the cat curiously, waiting. The question was mostly a joke, but Plagg’s tone was unusually serious.

“This might be a terrible mistake, but I’m all for bad decisions, so here it is.” Plagg floated a couple meters away from him, behaving more like Raafa, Chloé’s bee kwami, than an indifferent black cat, which sent a red flag to Adrien’s mind, but not enough that he stopped Plagg from talking. “Didn’t you ever wonder how your father got a hold of the miraculous in the first place? He was fit to be a hero once.”

“We figured that out.” Adrien sighed. “A kwami wont bond with someone who isn’t worthy. Before he went gray, before he’d even met my mom, he must have been.”

“Yeah, and then something corrupted him. A combination of rage, hatred, and sadness.” Plagg said. “My previous owner, she was a lovely lady. She became a doctor when all the world wanted her to do was look pretty in heels. Think of Paris in the 1920s, of smooth jazz and an entire generation angry at the world. That’s what my owner  was like when she found me—angry and determined.

“Master Fu was younger then. Not as young as he would have to be to look the age he does, but he was young. The Guardian’s magic has always been special in terms of time. He aged prematurely, but he also ages slower.” Plagg scratched his ear with a paw and shook his head, as if reminding himself to get back on topic. “Anyway, this woman was unafraid to run around in stilettos, pants, and a lovely cloche hat. She lived her life and grew up with the miraculous, Became a doctor, got married, and had three children, exactly in that order. Survived the Nazi occupation, although one of her children didn’t. The two that were left, one of them followed her mother’s footsteps and became a doctor, a surgeon even. Had a daughter of his own.

“This man was always busy at the hospital, and so his daughter would be shipped off to her grandmother’s often. To entertain her wide-eyed little granddaughter, the lovely lady would tell her stories.” Every time Plagg said the words ‘lovely lady,’ it was like he was recalling a fond memory. “The lovely lady would tell adventure stories of Paris in an older time.  _They were just stories,_ she insisted, but her granddaughter took it to heart.

“The little girl always believed in them, even if she wouldn’t admit it. She discovered her grandmother’s stories are true and became her secret keeper. She even met Master Fu, who was kind to the girl, and who was hesitant about keeping the miraculouses so concentrated in one city, but saw a spark in a certain young man and handed the butterfly over to him.

“At this point, the peacock had been lost for a while,” Plagg added off-handedly, with the usual attitude to which he approached Nino’s kwami. “That one’s another long, long story. You’ll have to ask Duusu if you’re curious, and it only proves he’s more trouble than he’s worth. Anyway, the lovely lady, now a grandmother, retired after living a relatively happy life, despite its rocky start. She went to Monaco, because money was no issue. You know, half of that wealth will go to the granddaughter one day.”

_What a coincidence,_ Adrien thought to himself at the mention of Monaco. He let Plagg continue talking, although there was a gleam in the cat’s eye that was more than just the usual unaffectedness.

“The grandmother left, but her granddaughter elected to stay in Paris. Her entire life was here, even if the person who loved her the most wasn’t anymore. And she had a promising career, and her days spent hanging around Master Fu’s place had earned her a new friend, the new owner of the butterfly miraculous. Over the years they made a pact, and decided to try to find the lost one—the peacock miraculous. I don’t know what happened exactly, as I was only there for one part of it, and had the rest recounted to me. I know for a fact that the pair succeeded, and fell in love along the way. It was the worst thing that could have happened.

“Not the love part,” Plagg quickly amended. “That’s just you humans and your emotions or whatever. Finding the miraculous was the worst thing that could have happened, because… because… when her grandmother passed away at a ripe old age of 98, the little girl, who was now a young adult, was left to go through her affects. She found a certain silver ring her grandmother always wore opposite her wedding ring. She gave the ring back to Master Fu, because she sure as heck didn’t want it, and she knew we get into very dangerous territory when magic runs in families. Powerful, but dangerous. The girl was more than worthy, but the ring was returned to the Guardian to await its next owner. Some boring stuff happens, and the girl got married to her partner in crime, retired from her modeling career and had a kid.”

Adrien had recalled his own childhood visits to Monaco and the rest of the Riviera, and as Plagg continued with his story, the rest of the pieces fell together like magnets. “The granddaughter’s name was Blanche.” Saying the words out loud felt like getting the wind knocked out of him. “You knew my mom. Your previous owner was Grandma Élodie. You knew my dad too.”

Plagg nodded. “Your father has always been troubled. The type of moneyed, neglected sort Gothic romances love. I know because Ellie ate them up as her guilty pleasure,” Plagg drawled. “Your mom was a bright light to him. He worshiped her. Then, their past turned back to bite them.”

“You see, to find the peacock miraculous, they had made enemies,” Plagg explained. “They had found it, and won it in a game. It was in the hands of… let’s call them keepers, because even the darkest kwami wouldn’t want to touch them, much less bind them,  Without meaning to, Blanche, who had tricked the miraculous away from those keepers, had put a target on her head. It just took a while to reach her.”

Plagg regarded Adrien cautiously. Adrien thought it was a little late for the kwami to be concerned about how well the news was being received. He nodded at Plagg to continue, because he  _needed_  to hear the end of it.

“She was poisoned, you know. The peacock miraculous, stolen. Luckily, they didn’t know about any of the others. Hawkmoth went to get it back. He succeeded, which is how it wound up in that safe again, but he had become tainted in the process. Hawkmoth didn’t even kill anyone. There was an idiot who picked it up and tried to bind with it without Duusu’s approval. I’ll warn you now that the peacock bites are very strong. Gabriel didn’t have to do anything but play fetch. This time, he didn’t give the miraculous back to Master Fu. Instead, Hawkmoth kept it, as a reminder of all their adventures together. It would break her heart to know what he became.”

Adrien unclenched his fists and hurriedly wiped tears out of the corner of his eyes. “How long have you known? Why did you tell me just now?”

“I’ve always known,” Plagg admitted. He sounded almost remorseful, if there were such a thing. “There is a reason why I don’t like people, or emotions, or pasts. Everything becomes too complicated. Besides you have enough on your plate. You didn’t need to know. It would only upset you. Granted, given Master Fu’s selection criteria, he had no idea who you were related to. Heck, I had no idea until your father finally showed up on the screen of a tablet being carried around by that PA. By then, it was too late.”

“Why are you telling me this?” Adrien croaked.

“Because you asked about my past hosts, and I figured this one would interest you the most,” Plagg reasoned. “The miraculous running in families is dangerous, and needs to be avoided at all costs. Guess that makes you doubly dangerous.”

“Would you have told me if I hadn’t asked?!”

“I would have told you if the situation had come up,” Plagg said logically. “And now it has. Didn’t you ever wonder how your parents met?”

Hadn’t every kid? Adrien knew Marinette’s parents had met in culinary school. His dad never talked about it, and Adrien had been scared to ask. When he’d been younger, his mother had told him the story, or at least some version of it. They had met working, she’d said. Adrien had assumed, naturally, she’d meant when his mother had been modeling and his father had been starting out as a designer. Maybe it was true, but it certainly wasn’t the entire story. His mother had whispered other stories to him before bedtime. Adventures and quests about two partners-in-crime defeating a villain together. Blanche had called the hero Adrien, to please her son. The heroine had been named Élodie. Adrien had always been impressed by the way his mother seemed to weave the stories out of thin air, about the level of surety and attention to detail she had put into every chapter of the long saga. The tales had started when he was four and ended when he was seven or eight when, instead, they had started devouring science fiction classics together. How many of Adrien and Élodie’s adventures had been real?

“So there was a distinct reason why my mother got sick,” Adrien said. “Are you telling me my dad was secretly a superhero while I was growing up?”

“Ahahaha, no.” Plagg said definitively. “He possessed the miraculous, but he didn’t really have powers. There was no need. Master Fu didn’t quite know how to bring up getting it back without provoking him.”

“I’m going to talk to him.” Adrien hastily got up. “I just want to know what my mom was like.” He put out a block of cheese for Plagg who, for the first time, did not actually look happy to see the dairy product, and texted Marinette before dumping his phone on the couch.

 

**[Adrien Agreste @ 19h48]**

**I’m going out for patrol.**

He messaged Master Fu too.

 

**[Adrien Agreste @ 19h49]**

**I’m heading to your place right now. Alone.**

**Plagg told me about my mother.**

 

Chat Noir shot across the city like a bullet. The lights and the smell of the water did little to comfort him like they usually did. Instead, it was all just background as Chat recalled the details of Plagg’s story. He high-tailed it to the Guardian’s place from the apartment in less than four minutes—a record. His communicator alerted him of a message when he was en route.

 

**[Master Fu @ 19h51]**

**Door’s open.**

Master Fu had gone through the trouble of transforming to message him.

When Chat Noir barreled through the door he found tea set up and steaming with Master Fu wearing his usual poker face. Chat sat right down (there was no taking off shoes in costume), and his green eyes glowered.

“Would you have ever told me, if Plagg hadn’t?”

“I didn’t know at first,” Master Fu admitted. “Then, things happened so quickly, and there was never a right time. Besides, the information should have come from your kwami rather than me.”

“That’s what you do as the Guardian, isn’t it?” Chat Noir sneered. “Stay detached, steer clear, let the world spin.”

“When you’ve lived as long as me, sometimes you have to.” Master Fu downed a cup of tea and poured another. “It’s the only way to stay sane.”

Chat Noir curled and unfurled his paws, feeling the sharp claws scratch against his palm. “Plagg said it’s dangerous for magic to run in families.”

Master Fu answered his question before he could ask it. “It is, but I would have given the miraculous to you, no matter whose child you were. I pick the person who is the best for the job, and I found you.”

“Why didn’t you tell me? If not at first, then later?” Chat resisted the urge to growl or claw at the table out of spite. “All that time we spent here training and figuring out how to defeat Hawkmoth. You didn’t say a word.”

“Would it have helped, if you had known? Would it had made a difference?” Master Fu asked honestly. He poured out the cold tea Chat Noir hadn’t touched into the traditional tea tray and poured him a new, steaming cup. Chat Noir de-transformed into Adrien, and took the cup in his hands in silence. “You did what you had to. Knowing the details would have made it more difficult,” Master Fu continued. “You can be angry at me for not telling you, but don’t blame the world for it.”

Plagg spoke from where he was sitting on the table. “Master Fu was the one who suggested I tell you, eventually.”

Adrien looked up from starring into the teacup, surprised. “Not Tikki, or anyone else?”

“Tikki doesn’t know,” Plagg explained. “She was on the other side of the Channel during the war for the most part, and then somewhere in East Berlin. The same goes for the other kwami. They were either elsewhere or inactive.”

“What made you think I was ready to finally hear the truth?” Adrien couldn’t keep the mockery out of his tone.

“You went into the other realm.” Master Fu answered the question, although it could have easily been directed at either him or Plagg. “That’s more than your father or many other former miraculous users had ever done.” There was admiration in the Guardian’s voice.

Adrien clenched his hand tighter around the hot teacup. The other realm, with its dizzying cosmic energy and how it had made a city seem like a living, breathing beast. His brain had blocked the worst of it out. He’d talked to Nino, who’d had a similar experience, the reaction was not unlike the way particularly intense fencing bouts ended up hazy memories. His experience with São Paulo had been compartmentalized into an acute feeling of drowning while his skin was lit on fire. “So the other realm’s the benchmark, huh?”

“You’re not the first miraculous user who’s been angry at me; who’s questioned my decisions,” Master Fu said matter-of-factly. “Go ahead, chew me out for it. It will make you feel better. The years have given me thick skin.”

Adrien noticed all the wrinkles on Master Fu’s face. Paris was a vibrant city, but also a troubled one with a violent history. Being a Chinese man back in the twenties or even earlier certainly could not have been pleasant, at times. Heck, it may have been worse in a later era. There were probably many things Adrien would never know about the Guardian’s past.

Adrien remembered his mother’s stories. Élodie always had, above all, gentleness rooted in her courage. It was what defined her character the most. Élodie the heroine was likely a combination of his grandmother and mother: a version meant to display the best of both people. He remembered a story he heard when the heroine had encountered a particularly mean character at work—it may have been a direct reference to an event from Blanche’s early modeling days. No matter how badly she was treated, she tried her best to take the high road. How would she feel, how would Marinette feel, how would he himself feel, later, if he lashed out now? What would he regret more?

“I’m annoyed, and hurt, but I’m more curious.” Adrien’s voice shook. “It seems you knew my mother, and my grandmother, and my father when they were young. Tell. Me. Everything. You owe me that much. Start with my mother. I want to hear every detail. How old were you, when you first met her?”

Master Fu was a gold mine of information, with a photo album to prove it. It was a photo album that spanned decades. The pictures inside were of everything from a vacation to Cannes to a cake he made that he was rather proud of. Once Adrien combed through the more recent pictures in the album, he found a handful of photos of both his parents. The oldest one was of his mother at no more than nine, with large green eyes and a lanky frame, her hair nearly white and in thin pigtails. The most recent showed his parents older than he was now. The disastrous shoulder pads on their “hip” clothes and their styled hair told him it was from the eighties, even before he read the red timestamp in the corner. Adrien could almost forgive Master Fu entirely for showing him a picture of his father, back when his hair was still light brown, in a mullet. Almost, but not quite.

Master Fu was on his second story, about when his mother was eleven and combing through a book for history class. Blanche had spotted Wayzz for the first time, and had thrown her heavy, leather-bound book at him reflexively. She hadn’t hit the kwami, but had broken a flowerpot in the process. She has been told everything.

“You’ve never revealed your secrets until compromised and forced to spill,” Adrien surmised. “I’m glad it’s not just me.”

Master Fu ignored the jibe, and got up to the part about how the kwami dealt with the curious hands of the eleven-year-old girl when Plagg got his attention by pawing at his arm.

“You should transform,” the kwami said as his ears twitched. “I think someone is trying to reach your com. It tickles.”

Adrien followed Plagg’s advice. Immediately, Chat Noir’s com was going off. Chat reached for his baton.

It was Ladybug. She let out a visible sigh of relief when he picked up and then her blue eyes flickered past him, to his surrounds. “Are you at Master Fu’s place?”

“Yeah,” Chat said. “Weren’t you going to stay a late night at the studio?”

“I’d finished all my stuff,” Ladybug said. “I was just helping out and keeping Willa sane while she dealt with Valerie. It’s a whole other story. I didn’t get your text until 20 minutes after you sent it. Once I did, I left. I tried to track you down, and saw you’d left your phone at home.”

“I’ll meet you on the roof of the building,” Chat said before standing up and turning to Master Fu. “I’ll be right back. You haven’t finished your story yet.”

Ladybug was sitting with her legs crossed when he got to the room, looking out toward the tower and the Louvre, in the direction of her parents’ bakery and the center of their lives. She turned to him and rose. “Why the sudden patrol?”

Chat Noir scratched an ear. “You didn’t have to take off from school.”

“Yes I did,” Ladybug said casually, but firmly. Chat was touched by her level of conviction. “I can finish projects whenever, or else make time for it. You’re more important. You’ll always be more important.” She spoke like she was stating a simple fact. “What’s wrong?”

“Plagg just told me about one of his past hosts,” Chat explained, knowing full well Plagg could hear him through the ring. “His most recent host before me turned out to be my great-grandmother on my mother’s side. And, get this, Master Fu apparently knew my mother when she was a girl. My father too, before he became Hawkmoth. Master Fu is telling me everything now.”

They were standing about half a meter apart until Ladybug tackle-hugged him. She looked Chat Noir in the eye and then moved to whisper close in his ear. “I’m sorry. I-I can go if you want to hear everything yourself.”

“No, this is good,” Chat said as Ladybug rested her chin on his shoulder. “I’m glad you came. It will save me the trouble of explaining a second time, and you can help me explain it to everyone else.”

“Are you sure?”

“Always.”

Ladybug didn’t tease him for being corny this time, but took his hand until they had to let go to climb down and through Master Fu’s window. He had laid out a third cup of tea. They de-transformed, and Master Fu, Plagg, and Tikki recalled what Marinette had missed.

Then, the stories continued. Adrien wasn’t sure if he knew his mother better for it—maybe because the stories would never come from her directly. The Blanche in these stories seemed more like an entirely different person than who his mother had been. Or maybe it would just take time to reconcile the fact that Adrien’s mother, who he always associated with sunshine and books and delicately crafted confections also fought off an akuma with a lamp, cut class to go to a peace rally, and accidentally-on-purpose spilled a pitcher of water on Gabriel’s sweater when they first met.

Actually, that last part was the most believable. It was easier to picture his mother as a young, fierce girl than his father as a stuck-up, angsty boy who secretly had a good heart. Sensing the tension building up, Master Fu stopped his tale after Blanche and Gabriel had found the first clue to where the peacock miraculous was.

“How about we talk about your great-grandmother instead?” Master Fu suggested.

She was still family, technically, but it was still easier for Adrien to listen to. Even if the stories centered around Frances struggles before and after the war, and the repercussions of the country’s colonialism in the second half of the 20th century, it was an easier for him to hear than about his parents in their late teens and early twenties.

It was nearly 1AM when they left. They went home only after the two of them had started conspicuously yawning and Master Fu gently reminded them about school the next day.

Once they were back and de-transformed, Marinette offered him some chocolate she had picked up from the confectionery nearby. The sweets went well with the pastries from her parents’ bakery.

“You deserve it,” she said.

“You spoil me.” Adrien popped a truffle in his mouth with a coating of orange around it.

“No, but I really wish I could,” Marinette said solemnly as she poured two glasses of water. “So, do you really want me to tell everyone else for you?”

“Could you? After we finish hearing all of it, that is.” Adrien wasn’t sure he could get through hearing the stories twice, much less parroting them himself.

“Of course it’s okay,” Marinette said. “I-I’m honored you trust me with all of it.” Marinette yawned between sips of water, which was her cue to head off to bed. “You better make sure we wake up in time for class tomorrow, though,” she teased.

Adrien did wake up in time. Marinette was reportedly only fifteen minutes late.

Adrien had patrol Tuesday night, which he got through by compartmentalizing his brain and thinking of nothing else but reacting to his surroundings.

Two shocks jolted him into remembering his rediscovered family history. The first one was getting a message from Ladybug. The second was passing Master Fu’s building during patrol. The place was beginning to hold more bad memories than good ones.

“Probably because you only go there for trouble.” Plagg mused to him when he’d stopped at home for a bit to make himself a sandwich with the leftover roast beef from lunch. “Try just showing up for the heck of it, and you’ll find good enough memories there too,” Plagg added.

Marinette got home when he was working on the dishes. “I got your message,” Adrien said. “Thanks for rearranging your schedule.”

Marinette shrugged like it wasn’t big deal. Adrien knew she had her months planned down to the minute (and was still always late.)

They got to Master Fu’s place for another long story time. Adrien was exhausted by the end of it, to the point that he wasn’t sure if it was worth the trouble.

He confided to Marinette once they’d left around 11PM that night. “My father doesn’t remember any of it, anymore. Anything to do with being Hawkmoth.” Adrien glanced down at his silver ring. “Does it mean that he doesn’t remember how he really met my mom? His brain must have made some story to compensate, and…” Adrien balled his hands into fists and sighed. “It’s incredibly sad, even if I still think we did the right thing.”

Adrien personally didn’t know how many 360s about his father as a person he could take. He wondered how many other people’s secrets and hidden pasts Master Fu kept catalogued in his head.

Suddenly, Adrien didn’t want to be in the romantic and beautiful city of lights anymore. There was too much atrocity. Too much pain. There was the same thing in other places, other cities too, he was sure. Hearing about Alya’s courses, he had truly understood that history seemed like a collection of human suffering and injustice. But if he went somewhere else, he would be away from his own history. His own family’s history.

“Let’s go somewhere,” Adrien blurted out. “Let’s transform, right now. Contact the others. We’re going to wake up Volpina.”

Marinette raised an eyebrow. They had just entered their apartment. Marinette shut the front door. “Right now?”

“Can we?”

One look into her eyes, and the impulse was rapidly being overruled by logic and politeness. Adrien felt silly for suggesting it, as it would be a huge inconvenience for everyone. _What a terrible, terrible idea, to discard the best-laid plans._ Marinette seemed to understand that if she pushed back, he would give in. It would only take the slightest objection. It wasn’t like being caught between a rock and a hard place. The team had laid out a perfectly good plan back in Tibet. It was late, and if they went right now, everyone would be tired and cranky. It would be very dangerous to try to fight a manifestation of a god while tired. In that state, it wasn’t truly a choice. Both knew that.

Marinette stepped out away from the entrance to the house. Adrien watched as she transformed in front of him. “Okay,” she said as she reached for her com. “Let’s go.”

 

Thankfully, Ladybug did most of the speaking when they met with the rest of the group.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll be traveling for over a week without access to my laptop. I think I have figured out a way to post next week. (Or, at least, I hope I have. I'm rather technology inept.)


	16. Run

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The unscheduled field trip.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's a shorter chapter because I've been traveling for the past week. Relatively shorter. I hope you enjoy!

They’d decided to go the one place where it would be summer. Due to the time difference, it was early evening when they arrived, but still daylight. Once they located the akuma, the piece of broken miraculous was easy to spot. The shadow fox itself was also impossible to miss. Standing three meters tall, it had interrupted what was a hot summer day at Parque da Luz. A swarm of young boys, probably ten to twelve years old, were goading it on. One of the kids, a scruffy one with an Afro and a football in one hand was positioning the football like he was preparing to score a goal and the fox was the target. A few of the other boys were screaming in Portuguese at it. From what little Ladybug picked up, it sounded like some of them were trying to see if they could ride or tame it.

“ _Fugir!_ ” Celeste commanded in clumsy Portuguese. He had done shows in Lisbon, Ladybug remembered. Perhaps that’s where he picked it up.

A few kids took steps back, but nothing that could be considered “running away.” Ladybug rolled her eyes. It would be too easy, wouldn’t it? To have discovered an akuma of noticeable size in an ideal fighting space. The park area was covered with soft grass to break falls and abundant palm trees to play Tarzan with. To have the space cleared out so they didn’t have to worry about civilians they would have trouble talking to. Nope, it would have been too convenient. Where had these kids even come from? The park was not ideal from playing football. Had they been on the streets and subsequently ran toward danger?

Ladybudy scanned her surroundings. It resembled a jungle. From the labyrinth, they had come out of a little gazebo and had run straight for the akuma. They had passed flower beds and groomed bushes. There was a small, man-made pond behind her to her 4:30, but she didn’t think they would fare that well trying to beat the fox in a swimming contest. They had to get away from the kids if the kids weren’t going to move.

“There’s a train station right in front of us,” Celeste called from above. He had flown over the trees to survey the area.

“How big is it?” Ladybug asked as she, Chat, and Honeybee circled the akuma on the ground. Chat motioned at them both and cocked his head towards the trees. Honeybee and Ladybug looked at each other for briefly before Honeybee shrugged and Ladybug nodded.

“Cataclysm!” Chat Noir ran in a square as he aimed his move, knocking down what was likely a small wood of the surrounding trees until it boxed the fox in.

“Station’s huge,” Celeste said as he slashed furiously at the akuma, trying to keep it in its new playpen. “Tracks going out in both directions.”

Volpina’s fragment was stuck in the akuma’s nose, clearly visible, but just out of reach. The fox leapt out and aimed to bite a straggling boy. (Most had finally decided to steer clear when Chat started destroying the park.)

“Wind Tunnel!” Celeste said. The force of the gust blocked the akuma from advancing, and the kid needed no command to spin 180 and bolt. The fox was lifted into a self-contained miniature cyclone.

“Blue, put it on top of the train station!” Ladybug shouted.

“What?!”

“Train station, now!” Ladybug took off for the train station in front of them, right outside the park. She landed on its roof just before Celeste deposited a dazed looking akuma there. Estação da Luz spanned one to two city blocks, depending on which area of the building she stood on. The best part, there were no people in its immediate vicinity for the fox to bite or scratch. Volpina had gotten them two out of two times, and Ladybug was not looking to make it a hat-trick on its part.

Chat and Honeybee flanked her sides on the roof. Celeste was keeping the fox from moving by slashing gusts of wind at it strategically with his staff. They needed a way to get close to the fox’s nose without any of them getting their hands bitten off.

“Lucky charm!” A handkerchief the size of a square cloth napkin lined with lace dropped into her hands. For some reason, there were a small, circular magnet at the center of the cloth. Before she could wonder what to do with it, the fox bounded over during a break in Celeste’s attacks. Chat Noir and Honeybee responded with their own weapons, driving the akuma back. Bee’s whip wrapped around one paw, while Chat Noir’s baton had grown to the length of a javelin, and was poking the akuma’s throat. Ceaselessly, it tried to sniff at Ladybug.

“Wait, guys.” Ladybug held out the giant handkerchief at an arm’s length. After a moment’s pause, Chat Noir and Honeybee released their weapons. Celeste remained airborne cautiously. The fox sniffed at Ladybug’s handkerchief. It must have been peppered with something because the akuma continued to sniff at it and sniff at it, not making any move to swipe its claws or bite. The shard started wiggling out from the nose on its own. Honeybee inched next to the akuma, who seemed to pay no mind to her at all. She grasped her fingers around the fragment and pulled, like she was removing a splinter.

“Here,” she said, handing the shard to Ladybug. By the time it was de-evilized the akuma had completely vanished.

Ladybug tossed the handkerchief up in the air. “Miraculous Ladybug!”

The four heard a chorus of small boys cheering in amazement as the pile of felled trees was restored to standing, reattached to their trunks. From the top of the train station they could see approaching news vans in addition to choppers from a TV station. There was someone in uniform in front of the station shouting at them in Portuguese from a loudspeaker, probably telling them to get down.

The group glanced around at each other, amused. “Hide from the press?” Chat Noir suggested.

“Naturally,” Ladybug replied. Once on the ground they ignored reporters and headed straight for the train station, where there was just enough chaos to slip out of sight and de-transform. Unfortunately, they still stood out in their heavy clothes given the sweltering heat. Marinette took off her coat and sweater, leaving her in a T-shirt and mini skirt that might have been season-appropriate if not for the stockings and heavy winter boots. She held the excess clothing under one arm as she checked her phone, which had successfully latched onto a nearby WiFi hotspot.

There was a message from Adrien, sent to the group. _Nearest ley line back at the park. Meet there._

Marinette went around the back and through the train station to get to the labyrinth gate. If her distinctive look didn’t get her weird glances, her choice of clothing certainly did. She had gotten used to the former, dealing with it her entire life. With the latter, she’d learned that the trick to not getting swindled as a “dumb tourist” was to walk fast, and look like you knew where you were going.

The inside of the station was constructed from raw steel that loomed overhead in arches. The interior architecture had a very “steampunk” vibe Marinette couldn’t have guessed from the exterior. She spent a few seconds taking it all in before she remembered to find a different door from where she had entered.

She saw a large extended family of about ten people sending someone off, and a group of dancers as she exited to the street. The news vans and curious onlookers were still gathering nearby. Marinette turned into the nearest entrance to the park and headed straight for the labyrinth gate. What she thought was a shortcut ended up being a wrong turn, so when she arrived, the others were waiting.

Nino and Adrien were talking in hushed voices, while Chloé was focused on her phone.

“I told you she’d gotten lost” Chloé snapped, as she started walking back toward Europe. “Now Adrikins, will you please tell us what’s with the sudden field trip?”

Marinette had firmly but vaguely explained that Ladybug and Chat Noir were going akuma hunting and Celeste and Honeybee could either come, or not. Either way, they were going, and it was not up for negotiation. After the initial surprise and annoyance, the other two miraculous users had followed. _Of course_ they had followed. If one of them were going, they all were.

“It was pretty reckless, but I felt I had to do it,” Marinette said.

“I know,” Chloé said. “I’m used to you acting that way.” She turned around to look past Marinette, at Adrien. “I want to know why you didn’t try to stop her.”

“He told me he’ll explain back at his place,” Nino interjected. “When everyone is there.”

Adrien nodded. “Some stories you only want to have to tell once.”

The statement struck a chord with both Nino and Chloé, and they didn’t bother bringing it up for the rest of the walk back.

What surprised Marinette more than Nino and Chloé’s graceful silence was Master Fu’s lack of comment. By going after São Paulo so early, they had essentially wasted a trip to the realm. Master Fu was waiting for them at the gate in Norte Dame. Five steps from the doorway that would lead them back to Paris, he quickly checked the kwami were in good health, and let them be. It was some ungodly hour into the night, and they would all do well to go to sleep, but the presence of Alya and Sabrina across the street told them it wasn’t happening. They were sitting in Master Fu’s vintage coup, because no one was dumb enough to stand out in the open that late at night. Sabrina had likely snuck out, telling her dad she was staying the night at Chloé’s. Alya had probably used a similar excuse.

“Nino, I told your folks you’re crashing at Adrien and Marinette’s,” Alya informed him as they approached the car. “You got called to play a surprise show, and it was easier to get to their place afterwards.”

Nino played along. “If it’s a show on a Tuesday night, they must have been really desperate.”

The four miraculous users transformed again, this time heading to Marinette and Adrien’s apartment, taking different routes and arriving at five to ten minute intervals. Marinette got there last. Master Fu had already dropped Alya and Sabrina off. Without their coats, Marinette realized they had come in their pajamas, with two bags apiece from the trunk of Master Fu’s car. Whatever Alya had Sabrina bad been doing before, they had been prepared to camp out to wait for them. Nope, she and Adrien weren’t weaseling out of explaining this one.

\--

 

Adrien began talking once Marinette had fixed everyone their preferred concoction of coffee with a free expresso shot on the side. Adrien told them why he had visited Master Fu the past two nights and gave a watered-down version of the stories Plagg and Master Fu had told him. Plagg make the occasional comment and Adrien got all the pitying looks. When it was all over, Alya was the first to break the dreary silence. She let out a long whistle.

“Wow.” Alya said. “Why is it the most interesting parts of my life make for a story I can never publish?”

Nino spoke next. “I’d say I’m sorry, but that’s a given, even though it wouldn’t help anyway.” He had taken off his cap at the start of the recap.

“Thank you for telling us, Adrien.” Sabrina said gently.

“I think we need some wine,” Chloé suggested, half-seriously.

“I think you’re a developing alcoholic,” Alya shot back.

“You know something better for drowning your sorrows?”

“There’s ice cream in the fridge,” Marinette offered mildly. She opened it to check. “Vanilla, green tea, and chocolate.” She got out the scooper and the bowls and spoons. “Eat, and then we figure out sleeping arrangements, and if you’re showering in the morning or now.”

The adrenaline was wearing off, and the tiredness setting in, along with the realization that they would all have to be awake and functioning adults in a few hours.

Chloé came to talk to him later, after speaking in hushed tones to Marinette in the kitchen. Her cheeks were slightly flushed, and Adrien guessed she had gotten into the new bottle of white wine Nathalie had delivered to them. Adrien had been staring out the door to their small half-moon balcony.

Chloé spoke as she leaned on the curtain across from where Adrien was standing. “With your mom at least, it’s good things, right?”

“What?”

“The things you learned about her,” Chloé clarified. “You’ve just found out that your parents weren’t who you thought they were. At least with your mom, you learned good things, right?”

“Yeah,” Adrien had to admit. “They were pretty good things. I’d want her on my side on a grand adventure. Thing is, I learned some good things my dad did too. I should respect him more after knowing that info.”

“But he lived long enough to see himself become the villain,” Chloé quoted.

Adrien let out a harsh chuckle. “Aren’t our lives full of the most terrible clichés?”

Chloé pouted and glanced across the apartment. Nino had taken the floor in Adrien’s room, and was already asleep, though the door was wide open. Alya was trying to convince Sabrina to take pictures of Nino after Alya finished drawing on his face with magic marker. Marinette was setting up the other cots. Then there were the two rich kids throwing themselves a pity party in one corner. “Speaking from personal experience, you learn to love them anyway.” Chloé turned to face him again. “Though you might not like some of the things they did or didn’t do, you’re grateful, in the end.”

“It could be worse,” Adrien agreed. “Learning about Father’s past good deeds is not a bad way to spend a week. Even if the stories make the way he is now worse. Maybe what bothers me the most is knowing that no matter what I find out about him in the future, because of what I know he did, it won’t ever be completely okay.”

“Wouldn’t it be grand if everyone just came with parents who were perfect, or as close to perfect as possible? A lot of the world’s problems would be fixed,” Chloé lamented as she leaned into the drape. Raafa had flown over and whispered something into her host’s ear and then sat on Chloé’s shoulder. “It got easier when I accepted that parents are just people. People make bad decisions and have regrets and might fundamentally disagree on certain things, but you learn to live with it. My lord, growing sucks.” Raafa nodded, as if agreeing.

“I don’t think I’ve ever told you, but I’m kind of glad you are an honest drunk.” Adrien yawned.

“Please, I am not drunk.” Chloé waved her hand dismissively. “I am not sober, but I am not drunk.”

“My mistake.” Adrien relented. “Honest tipsy person, then.”

“You know, that’s your problem Adrikins,” Chloé said. “You’re too honest all the time.”

“I’ve never thought of it as a bad thing.”

“In the world we’re from? You would have been chewed up and spit out if fate hadn’t intervened.”

“Thanks?” Adrien wasn’t sure how offended he should be.

“No problem.” Chloé accepted the bread and water Marinette offered as she walked by. “It’s a really good thing, no matter how much trouble I give you for it,” Chloé continued. “Don’t lose that part of you.”

Adrien caught Marinette’s eye as she smiled at him. “I won’t,” Adrien said. “Promise.”

Chloé snickered, and headed off to Marinette’s room, where she was crashing a futon on the floor. (“My father would be horrified if he heard of me sleeping on the floor.” Chloé had giggled gleefully when it had first been suggested.)

Sleep deprivation turned out to be a great catalyst for soul bearing. Or so Adrien thought the next morning, when he’d woken up much earlier than usual because he’d heard Nino shuffling around.

“Sorry, did I wake you?”  Nino had his headphones plugged into his laptop, which he carried with him everywhere.

“It’s fine,” Adrien said as he yawned. He checked the clock. 6:32AM. He had to be up soon anyway.

“I couldn’t sleep, so I figured I get some work done,” Nino edged closer to Adrien’s bed and handed the headphones off to him,

Nino pressed play on the music software as Adrien put on the headphones. He heard a mix of electronic beats. “It’s cool.”

“It’s totally not to your classical-music trained taste,” Nino challenged.

“Yeah, you got me there,” Adrien admitted. “But it’s still pretty cool.” He handed the headphones back.

“I appreciate the support.” Nino turned off the software and started packing up to leave. “I’m actually thinking of enrolling in classes or something. Not as a backup—don’t want to give my parents any ideas. But I can always learn more about music. Especially about the technical aspects. I didn’t think knowing how to sight read would even come in handy for someone who works primarily with a mixing board until a band I’m working with presented me with their set in note form and told me to match it.

“I had to explain, rather embarrassed, that I don’t know what to do. They gave me more notes, this time as guitar frets, and I was okay, though some of it was still guesswork. I was so proud of playing everything by ear too.” Nino laughed. “I remember another band talking about some incredibly technical stuff this one time. ‘I might totally be in over my head,’ I thought.”

“I don’t think you’re in over your head, but who am I to object to someone learning classical music?”

Nino turned his head curiously. “Weren’t you kind-of forced into it?”

“In the same say I was forced into everything.” Adrien scratched his head. “I mean, I don’t regret putting an end to the lessons, but I don’t mind having taken them either.”

Nino made a thoughtful noise. “Actually, there is something else I want to show you.” He pulled out a book of music paper and flipped to a page. Adrien saw a treble clef followed by some notes. A lot more were crossed out. “An idea I’ve been toying with.” Nino passed the paper to Adrien and opened another sound file on the computer. “Think you can help me?”

Adrien looked over Nino’s short composition. “I have a guess what this is for.”

Nino shrugged. “Never tested it.”

They tinkered with the song composition for twenty minutes before Nino realized the time. He gathered his things. “Thanks, dude. Tell everyone I had a bus to catch and will see them around.”

Adrien checked his phone after Nino was out the door. There were two emails from Nathalie. One reminding him that he had a dinner scheduled with his father in ten days (with Marinette invited), and an invitation to a gala happening after New Year’s. The paper invitation would be arriving in the mail soon. A month was a good time. Marinette could probably get a dress made in that time, if she wanted. Knowing her, she would jump at the opportunity. Willing. It would also save them another fight about him “buying her too many extravagant things.” Never mind that she was doing him a favor, and three thousand Euro dresses just happened to be necessary for the favor. He would tell her about the gala sometime today. More difficult would be surviving the dinner with his father.


	17. Support Beams

Ladybug learned most of the ins and outs of superheroing on the job. Four years in, and she liked to think she had largely gotten the hang of it. She worked well with her team, and knew the streets of Paris’ city center flawlessly. Unfortunately, they were not in Paris right now, and what they were currently doing would be more aptly described as _espionage_ instead of your classic crime-fight-in-tights. They were unnoticed so far, and wanted to keep it that way.

The Labyrinth had opened up to the top of the Azadi Tower, where they were met with heavy showers. It had taken them about an hour to walk through the Labyrinth, so by the time they reached Tehran, it was 4:30 in the afternoon on Saturday. The strong wind made every raindrop feel like a miniature water balloon. The top of the tower was empty, but Ladybug saw the circular park below had a few stubborn tourists who remained undeterred by the weather. The patches of grass were sectioned off like honeycombs, which should have amused Bee. Beyond the park was a dizzying amount of traffic pulsing through the city like blood cells through arteries. In the distance, past an expansive amount of buildings, were the Alborz Mountains.

“Hey, I think I’ve got it,” Chat Noir said from where he stood a few meters away, turned toward a different direction. “I can sense Volpina! It’s… it’s running to meet us.”

It was hard to tell with Chat Noir, because his eyes glowed no matter what. His statement could have been from his successfully channeling Plagg, or from the large black fox bounding across the park and circling the tower beneath. It pranced around gleefully, as if it had been waiting for them. So much for staying incognito.

“Blue and Chat, run downstairs and evacuate the tower,” Ladybug said. “We need to get this area clear.” Celeste and Chat Noir pried opened the door that led to the stairs and disappeared.

“We’ve stopped traffic,” Honeybee commented breezily from her vantage point. “And look, news choppers. Or at least I hope those are news choppers and not military helicopters.”

Ladybug glared at Honeybee, who laughed. “Just saying. So LB, any idea how to box the area off?”

Ladybug was trained to treat Luck Charm as a last resort. It was her ace-in-the-hole, a wildcard, the _deus ex machina_ of every operation if there ever was one. Adrien’s taste in anime and video games must have rubbed on her slightly because she was well aware that the hero’s signature power-up move was always saved for the climax, or used in repeated button-mashings during the boss battle. Her head told her she couldn’t use Lucky Charm now, even if the akuma was gnawing at one of the legs of the tower like it was a chew toy, and making surprising progress weakening the white marble and turquoise structure. Even if they were surrounded by all this traffic. But one of the first and perhaps most important lessons she had learned from superheroing was to trust her gut.

“Lucky Charm!”

Honeybee turned sharply in her direction with her mouth agape.

The object that appeared did not fall out of the sky, thank gods. Instead, a thin, cylindrical object materialized by her side. The Quantic realm must have had a sense of humor not nearly as sweet as Tikki’s. Honeybee helped her undo the strings and unfold the object part-way revealing a large canvas banner. Rolled up, it stood at about 170 centimeters. Ladybug guessed from its size that, when unfurled, it could cover the perimeter of the inner rung of honeycomb-shaped grass patches surrounding the tower. _Ah._

“Bee, think you can raise columns surrounding the tower including the closest grass patches?” Ladybug asked as she held the rolled-up banner up.

“You just want me to stay here and get rained on, don’t you?” Honeybee joked as a news chopper reached them and started circling them overhead. “Go LB.” Honeybee cracked her whip. “I love an audience.”

Ladybug lobbed the banner up and it sailed through the air like a missile. She then launched herself after it and swung her yo-yo out in front of her. Honeycomb formed after a couple of flickers, and the banner landed on its solid form just as Ladybug’s yoyo wrapped around the yellow beam. Ladybug used her momentum to sail back in a circular arc, going under and landing on top of the magic-made structure.

Honeybee had constructed a circular bridge thirty meters tall around the tower. The beams were thin and hollow, but at the top of each support pillar were large hooks. Ladybug grinned. Honeybee really had thought of everything. The top of the banner came with reinforced holes. Ladybug stuck the first hole through the nearest hook and unrolled the banner as she ran to the next one. Getting the sign up got easier the more it was unfurled.

 

Meanwhile, Chat Noir and Celeste were running down the stairs and corridors. There weren’t many people on the upper levels, but they found crowds when they reached the second floor. “Okay, everyone,” Chat Noir said loudly. A man in a dark suit approached them quickly as Chat Noir looked to Celeste, who was as baffled as he was. “Evacuate the building. Dang, how do I direct them?” Farsi was one of the languages he didn’t have the vaguest clue about.

The man who approach them spoke confidently in French. “Children, I work luxury retail.

 I know French. You want the building cleared?”

Chat Noir sighed in relief. “Please and thank you.”

“I’ll have everyone go to the lowest level,” the man said with a quick glance out the window. “Make the demon leave.”

They ran out of the tower. The boys saw Ladybug laying out her giant banner. Honeybee was likely still on the roof maintaining the bridge. Chat Noir noticed upon closer inspection that Honeybee had created more than a bridge. Between each support beam was a thinner layer of gold, making it a complete wall. The akuma was currently occupied at scratching at and head-butting one spot. Worse, judging from the cracks that were forming, it was making progress.

Celeste hurried to help Ladybug with the sign. Azadi Tower just so happened to be surrounded by one of the busiest roundabouts in the city and traffic was terrible.

The banner Ladybug and Celeste were putting up had words printed in Farsi, Azerbaijani, Kurdish, and Arabic, as well as French, English, and German. Celeste imagined it was like the Rosetta Stone, and the same thing was said in each language. _Instructions for akuma attack: 1. Remain calm 2. Avoid the area until it is cleared._

The sign didn’t stop pedestrians near the park from livestreaming on their phones. Whatever happened now, the quantic squad couldn’t claim they didn’t warn the general populace.

Chat Noir knew exactly where the shard was, because he was still channeling Plagg. He also knew that he had little time to retrieve it before the akuma break through the Honeycomb wall and charge through traffic. As Celeste got the last of the banner hung up, Ladybug tried to restrain the fox with her yo-yo.

Chat sensed the shard was by the akuma’s upper back, likely covered by fur and therefore, not obvious. Chat Noir tried to tell her through his com, but his call went unheard through the pounding rain, and the fact that the head of Ladybug’s yoyo was currently being swung at the fox’s head.

This akuma was ten meters tall, and Chat Noir knew he had little chance of reaching the shard by himself from the ground. He considered climbing up the Honeycomb structure, but it was likely slick with rain, and he was having enough trouble sloshing through six centimeters of cold water. How had Ladybug even gotten up there? _Oh._ Chat could venture a guess. _Yeah, she would._

Chat planted his baton, wrapped his hands around the very top, and extended it upward until he was the height of the tower. He looked over to Honeybee, who was standing still on the roof to maintain Honeycomb.

“What are you doing, Chat?” She shouted skeptically.

“It’s like Budapest,” Chat Noir said. He stepped on the roof while shifting the baton’s size, and then pole-vaulted off the roof. Chat used the momentum to dive-bomb straight for the akuma. His baton, without its owner, clattered to the ground behind him. It spooked the animal and caused it to move.

“What the hell, man?!” Celeste calculated the likelihood that Chat would crash since Volpina had moved to the side. It wasn’t looking good for him. “Wind Tunnel!”

Chat Noir did not hit the ground or slam into the wall in a way that would have likely broken every bone in his body. Instead, Celeste’s superpower softened the blow. It was like being caught in the eye of a cyclone. Chat felt his body moved by the vortex around him until he was dropped onto the akuma’s back which is where Celeste had assumed, correctly, Chat Noir had been aiming for in the first place.

Chat Noir grabbed fistfuls of fur to try and stay atop the creature. _How had LB made it look so easy in Copenhagen?_ His whole body shook each time the akuma slammed its head against the wall. It scratched at the cracks forming.

Suddenly, he heard a swish of air as Ladybug landed next to him. “Fancy meeting you here,” he said smoothly.

Ladybug rolled her eyes. She had wrapped her yo-yo string around the akuma’s midsection, and her grip on the taunt cord helped her keep her balance. She held a hand out to Chat. “Need to stand on your feet if you’re going to get that shard out.” Chat Noir took her hand and let himself get pulled up. He kept a hand on her arm to steady himself.

“Cataclysm!” The orb of dark energy slammed straight into the upper back of the creature, at the base of the left shoulder. The attack tore through slick shadows until Chat Noir froze, right where he felt the shard surface, glowing like a torchlight. Ladybug reached for the fragment once Chat pulled his hands away.

Ladybug released her yo-yo as they felt the akuma thrash hard enough to shake them off. They looked up at Celeste, who gave them a thumbs up. Hand-in-hand, they jumped, and Celeste cushioned the blow with a gust of wind from a swing of his staff. He then flew to the tower to get Honeybee down.

Once her feet was planted on the ground Ladybug deposited the shard into her yo-yo. “De-evilize,” she said. She then tossed her yo-yo up, without bothering to move the banner, and added. “Miraculous ladybug.” The banner disappeared as quickly as it had materialized. Once gone, Honeybee released Honeycomb, and their surroundings were much dimmer.

A camera man, two people holding umbrellas around him, and someone Ladybug guessed was probably a news reporter, all dressed in heavy raincoats and hoods, ran up to them. The reporter said something in rapid Farsi.

Ladybug gave Chat Noir a questioning look. Chat shrugged. “I don’t know. They may want their tower back.”

The reporter seemed to see something behind them, and motioned for his crew to follow. They were running towards Celeste and Honeybee, who had both moved to stand by the base of the tower. Ladybug and Chat Noir ran to join them. Chat Noir picked up his baton, which had shrunk down to its smallest size, along the way.

“Here,” Honeybee said. “Money for our tickets for entering the tower.” She produced a crisp Iranian rial from… from where? A pocket dimension? Chat didn’t have time to ask as Bee pressed the bill to the ticket counter, where a bedraggled man had come out of hiding. Her circlet and Ladybug’s earrings started blinking at around the same time. Ladybug grabbed Honeybee, and pulled them both up to the top of the tower with her yo-yo. Celeste and Chat Noir immediately followed, using their own weapons. At that point in time, the circling news chopper was far away, and having trouble flying because of the storm. (It would make an emergency landing on the green a few minutes later.) News outlets would report the heroes entering the tower from the roof. However, the cameras which swept through the inside of the tower reported seeing no costumed heroes.

\--

 

Marinette couldn’t remember how they’d decided on it, exactly, but for some reason it had seemed like a good idea to tackle two cities in one weekend (again). A bunch of overachievers, the lot of them. And then Adrien had decided to use the akuma as a punching bag, and the level of crazy for the week had become extra concentrated.

So, perhaps she hadn’t been the most well-rested when she decided to vault across a tower or asked Honeybee to build an impromptu extra-large prison. All these fun times in pouring rain to boot. Their costumes conveniently shielded them from most of the weather, meaning they were only slightly cold and wet instead of completely drenched during the walk back. Everyone was on edge, even as they calmed down to munch on the snacks they kept stored in the Labyrinth.

Which made where the Labyrinth spat the group out in Istanbul marginally scarier.

Ladybug thought she had become accustomed to spending long chunks of time in relative darkness thanks to their usual mode of world travel. The Labyrinth was dimly lit, but the light sources were at least regularly dispersed throughout the walls, which were dry and usually free of cobwebs. Master Fu took good care of the place, and every other pathway was marked. Plus, the Labyrinth came with a map. The place where they had stepped out into was so dark Ladybug couldn’t see twenty centimeters in front of her, much less read a map if she had one.

The Labyrinth door shut behind them, cutting off what little light there was from the crystals. Ladybug pressed her hand against the wall and felt damp stone, coupled with the sound of dripping water. They were certainly inside the Basilica Cistern.

“This place is creepy,” Celeste said. _Creepy, creepy… creepy,_ they heard reverberate back to them. “Great, it echoes too.”

“It’s totally dark,” Chat Noir said. “I wonder if Volpina can even see down here when it forms.”

“At least we might actually stay incognito for once,” Ladybug said. “Honeybee, would you mind giving us some light?”

“ _I_ need some light to even see where to aim Honeycomb at. No way am I immobilizing myself down here for any reason. If I build something larger than me, I’m not going to be able to move afterwards.”

“I thought it was if you built something at all?” Celeste asked.

“I thought so too,” Honeybee confirmed. “Until we got back from the other realm, and Raafa suggested testing my powers.” Honeybee clicked her tongue. “I also need to remain nearby to control it. Wait, I’ve got it! Honeycomb!”

Golden light filled a small part of the cavern. The door to the Labyrinth, which everyone was still crowded around, became visible. There was something (hopefully moss) growing in various corners of the bricks. The outer part of the door, which had been quite heavy, was stacked with bricks and stones as well. Ladybug turned and saw that Bee had formed Honeycomb into a small lantern. Except the entire structure, from the thick, smooth stick she gripped with her right hand, to the handle the stick merged into, to the casing of the actual lantern, glowed with yellow light. The inside, where a flame or bulb would usually go, wasn’t visible. Instead, the four sides of the lantern were solid. The entire structure was an oddly shaped sun.

“You a genius, Chlo!” Ladybug exclaimed.

“I can walk around if I’ve created an object this small,” Honeybee confirmed as she moved the light around. “It’s probably haunted. Ye gods,” she said with a tone of distaste.

“Oh, it’s definitely haunted. They used to dump corpses in the cistern,” Chat Noir supplied. “I think there was an Assassin’s Creed game that took you in here for a bit.”

“Awesome,” Honeybee sneered. “Great. We should just watch the walkthrough to figure out where to go.”

Tentatively, the group advanced a few steps. The driest parts of the floors still had a few centimeters of water. Several meters down, the cistern opened to a forest of pillars, all tinged green, with some intricate carvings at the base. They found themselves on a stone ledge, overlooking deeper pools of water.

“Hey, there are fish in the water! Neat!” Chat Noir said.

“I bet this place is a maze.” Celeste twirled the flute he had been holding in his right hand since they had exited the Labyrinth. He held his staff in the other. “Will Volpina even be able to find us here? Or get eaten by scarier demons first?”

“You know how we were lost in Cairo? It’s going to be ten thousand times worst here,” Ladybug guessed. “How far are we from the touristy parts?”

“They’d be closed now anyway,” Chat Noir pointed out. “Plus, I don’t think this part of the cistern is on the map.”

They inched forward following Honeybee’s lead. Each of them furtively scanned the walls for a moving shadow or a large, looming one. They listened for the _plitter platter plonk_ of a creature using four legs and did not dismiss the possibility of a roar echoing off the corridors. When the light was at a certain angle, they could see the arched ceilings visible in the still waters which made the cavern seem much more endless.

Ladybug broke the silence because minutes of listening to nothing but footsteps, the group breathing, and running water in the distant background was getting to be too much. “Is it strange to say that even with the dampness and the mud and the creepiness, I think it’s kind of beautiful down here?”

“The place certainly has character,” Chat Noir said.

“It has a little too much character,” Celeste said. “I’m going to see if the flute works.” Celeste lifted the wooden flute to his lips. After Cairo, Celeste had come up with the idea to try and use sound to lure the fox to them, instead of having to chase it. Adrien evidently wasn’t the only one who had one-on-one meetings with Master Fu. The Guardian had presented Nino with the flute the day before, saying its capabilities hadn’t ever been tested. Celeste had left the flute in their grocery bags of snacks in the Labyrinth. The rain and the immediate appearance of the akuma meant Celeste probably wouldn’t have needed to use it in Tehran anyway.

However, the instrument could be useful here. Celeste played the short, sixteen bar melody he had devised, and then repeated it, and repeated it. The notes became cacophonous as they echoed through the caverns and mixed with the sound of running water. Honeybee lowered her lantern slightly and saw schools of fish swimming rapidly in one direction. From the other direction, the group heard large splashes getting louder and louder. A cast of light showed orange eyes incoming.

“We’re not going to find the shard in this darkness,” Ladybug said. “I’ll have to channel Tikki.”

Suddenly, the light shifted as Honeybee was thrown against a pillar, the lantern going with her. She had moved back instinctively from the akuma approaching, as had Chat Noir and Ladybug. None of them was its target.

Celeste yelped and they all heard the wooden flute plop into the water. “It bit me!”

Honeybee swung the light towards Celeste’s voice to see him cradling his arm. “I’m bleeding a little,” he said as he stomped and kicked at the creature, who was about a meter tall with a very long body. “Yo, not cool. Priceless magic flute right there. Magic. C’mon.”

There was a sickening crack as the flute was smashed in half. “Ow!” There were louder splashes as Celeste stumbled back. “This one nips,” he said with gritted teeth.

“The shard is lodged into its spine,” Ladybug said, having spent the past minute pushing past distractions to channel Tikki. “In the fourth vertebrae.” As she spoke, Honeybee switched the hand that was holding the lantern and took out her whip. In one fluid motion, the whip sailed across the akuma, wrapped around the fox’s snout three times, and hit the water with a more languid sound. The animal growled, but couldn’t get out of its new muzzle.

“Lucky Charm,” Ladybug said, and caught whatever the object was based on feel. It was small, but dense for its size. “A pair of tweezers?”

Chat Noir, who had been scrutinizing Celeste’s injuries with the help of his night vision (which had still ceased to work in pitch black darkness earlier) perked up. “We’re going to have to perform surgery, aren’t we?” He gulped.

“Not on me,” Celeste said. “I’m fine, really. As long as LB uses her magic and I’m healed before I bleed out.”

“How’s your other arm? Can you still use you staff?” Ladybug asked in a concerned voice.

“Certainly, if it will get my wound fixed faster,” Celeste said.

Ladybug nodded. The fox was thrashing, but constant, persistent pressure from Honeybee’s whip kept it largely in place. “Both of you, then. Aim towards the fourth vertebrae.”

“Wind Tunnel,” Celeste said just as Chat Noir said “Cataclysm.”

The sharp, concentrated destructive wind combined with Cataclysm to form a spiral of dark energy that spun like a drill. It tore through the top layer of the fur and skin across the akuma’s neck like a bullet. The fox twitched, but weakly, and slumped, somewhat. Ladybug knelt down and put one are around the creature, clasping her arm between the creature’s two front legs and shifting so that her own bodyweight kept the creature from squirming. Honeybee held the light closer while Chat Noir helped her hold the akuma still. There was no blood, but inky black ichor got on Ladybug’s suit. She winced. The ichor burned like hot lava searing her skin. She went woozy from the pain momentarily, but her mind refocused when most of her leg and her other knee hit the cistern floor and she sat unceremoniously in several centimeters of cold water.

“LB?” It was Chat Noir’s voice.

“It’s fine,” Ladybug forced herself to say.

Ladybug gripped her tweezers more tightly, and then relaxed her hand to maneuver them. Tikki’s powers guided her and she was automatically drawn to the shard, whose energy she felt glitter in the darkness like a star. She yanked it out like a splinter and quickly stood up.

Ladybug reached for her yo-yo, and when she opened it the white light was almost too bright to look at. After placing the shard in the yo-yo and de-evilizing it, she threw the tweezers up more gently than usual, and swung her yo-yo up the same way. Before anything hit the ceiling she said “Miraculous Ladybug.” _Ladybug, Ladybug, Ladybug,_ the walls echoed.

She felt the ladybugs swarm around herself and imagined the same thing was happening to Celeste. The sharp pain abated as quickly as it came and faded into a duller, more manageable one before vanishing completely after a few minutes.

“I think I remember the way back,” Chat Noir said, his glowing green eyes scanning the walls quickly. “We only made one turn, right?”

They shuffled through the edge of the forest of pillars much more quickly this time. When they reached the ley line, the crystals on the walls seemed welcoming. Honeybee released Honeycomb with a sigh of relief. Everyone de-transformed as they made their way to the Labyrinth.

“Nino, you had like, no time to practice. How did you pull it off?” Chat Noir asked as they entered the better ventilated, well-lit underground tunnels.

“I played a lot of instruments as a kid,” Celeste explained. He de-transformed and continued talking as Nino. “Violin, piano, guitar, drums, the whole bit. I could probably still pick it up if I had to.”

“Like for baiting akuma and getting hurt.” Adrien’s voice shook. “Got it.”

Marinette shuddered as she remembered the burns on her skin. What was there to say? They had all remained intact, but three akuma battles across the world in such a short amount of time was wearing on them. Each one left them the sort of drained they needed more than stuffing themselves and their kwami with snacks to fill.

Marinette couldn’t speak for anyone else, but flashbacks to the worst parts of battle kept amplifying the feeling in the pit of her stomach. The one that had been lodged there since Cairo, and she had felt a metropolis’ collective agony. She was caught between the desire to shut her eyes for a little bit—to plug her ears and tune it all out—and to leap into another high-stakes scenario so her mind couldn’t dwell. They were back in _their_ Labyrinth, but walked as if they were still silently meandering the Basilica Cistern.

As they arrived at the center hall, Chloé spoke authoritatively. “Everyone has their passport in their safety packs, right?” Safety packs were something they had come up with along with keeping packaged snacks around the various nooks and crannies of the labyrinth. Each miraculous holder had a drawstring bag’s worth of emergency stuff, which included their passports and various currencies. Marinette had no issue with leaving her passport in the tunnels because it wasn’t safer at the surface, and she wasn’t planning on taking any trips out of the EU soon. Not as a civilian, anyway.

“Of course,” Nino said suspiciously. “But you know it’s a _good_ thing we were finally incognito for once?”

“Yeah, whatever,” Chloé huffed. “You guys know we were just in Istanbul, right? We were just in one of the grandest cities in the world, and we didn’t get to see any of it. Do you even know how beautiful the Turkish historical sights are? No, because we just waltz right in and walk right out when the job is done.”

“Are you suggesting we go back up there to sightsee?” Marinette asked.

“Oh no, not at all.” Chloé rummaged into her own pack and got out her passport and more Euros, which she stuffed into a small Givenchy purse she’d stowed away. “With the insurgents, what happened with Allepo, and the state of things, Turkey is not very safe right now.” Chloé fixed her hair and let Raafa sit on her shoulder. “But it’s the weekend and I need a break, and I want to go somewhere warm. Don’t argue with me on this, okay? We deserve it.”

Nobody dared to speak for several seconds, until Adrien cleared his throat. “Where are we going to, then?”

They ended up in Athens, because it was in the southern part of the EU, nowhere three of them had ever been, and relatively cheap. Through the Labyrinth, it was only a five minute walk from Istanbul, since Turkey and Greece really were close neighbors. They started out in the Acropolis of Athens, but shied away from the long lines and throngs of tourists. Instead, they walked around the city, not actively looking for the tourist traps, but running into them anyway because they had started out so close to the city center.

Since it was pretty late when they arrived, Chloé marched them into a five-star hotel. With Marinette and Nino’s agonizing, hushed protests, and Adrien’s aloofness in the background, she checked them into a suite.

“What are you doing, Chlo?” Nino whispered harshly, as to not cause a scene.

“There are normal hostels around here,” Marinette added, also quietly as Chloé filled out the forms.

“I want to stay somewhere nice,” Chloé said pertly. “As far as I know, I am going to be enjoying the night here, in this huge suite, which I just booked. You lot can find something else and spend more money, or you can join me. You’re more than welcome, and there is definitely room.” Chloé continued when she saw Marinette and Nino were still hesitant. “How is it any different than crashing my suite?”

“That’s like, your house,” Nino exclaimed.

“This place won’t be nearly as nice as Daddy’s.” Chloé finished the paperwork. “Are you staying here or not?”

Adrien gave his passport to the front desk. Marinette and Nino shared a _what-can-you-do?_ look and relented.

It was a three-room, two-bath suite that was plushly decorated in blue and metallic tones. The room had a very rococo vibe. Marinette was pleased to find the couch and beds weren’t actually as soft as they looked. They had Turkish food for dinner at a nearby restaurant, ironically, because it had looked the most appetizing.

Nino took to traveling with gusto. The next day, he suggested that they go somewhere in the country that was actually paradise. Which is why they ducked into the Labyrinth again and ended up in Karpathos. Athens had been a touristy city. Kyra Panagia was a touristy beach, but it still had white sand and clear blue waters. In both places they could walk around without their jackets and buy gelato. (Although gelato was Italian, it seemed to have invaded the world. Not that Marinette was complaining.)

Tikki pointed out that blotches of her skin were still raw and reddish-purple from the ichor, but they were fading fast. By the time she was on the boardwalk, they were mostly pink blotches. Adrien and Nino were walking a few steps in front of her, talking. Chloé was behind her, snapping pictures. Marinette glanced around to check that no one was paying her any mind, and fed Tikki the wafer that came with her ice cream.

“I’ve seen wounds like yours before, Marinette,” Tikki mentioned between bites, when she noticed Marinette staring at her hands. Now, the scars looked more like a rash. Marinette guessed the worse of it occurred when she was still wearing the suit, or in the dimmer lighting of the caves. They would have been a significant, noticeable marks. The kind that made people pause and stare. Her parents, among others would have asked questions. “The power of Ladybug will protect you and heal you in full. It just might take some time.” _It’s better than the alternative, I guess._

Chloé came up from behind her and demanded a selfie. While putting an arm around her she whispered to Marinette and Tikki. “Hide, Tikki, you were about to be spotted.”

Marinette took the selfie with Chloé, her smile bright and the sea sparkling behind them. Under the aperture of the lens, the splash of pink on her face that resembled a burn was hardly noticeable. The miraculouses were aptly named, but it didn’t detract from the wonder, at times. Yesterday, she had been in Tehran and Istanbul, and now she was looking at a picture of herself with her back to the Aegean Sea. Harsh, disfiguring marks on her skin and face would heal in hours, into barely-detectable patches of paler skin. She was going to have dinner with one of the world’s most famous fashion designers in less than a week. Someone she now regarded less in the context of his profession, and more in the context of many other things.

Remembering the week she had coming up, she was glad she had a friend like Chloé, who was outrageous and extravagant and not afraid to take a spur-of-the-moment holiday. Everything—the ice cream, the beach, the warm weather, was really nice. It was something she, Adrien, and Nino wouldn’t have dared indulged in on their own.

Marinette had a sudden urge to call her parents. She wanted to share the seaside view with them. Could she buy a souvenir from here and say she took a spontaneous trip? They would be surprised, but probably not angry. There were places she had gone that she could never talk to them about, but this place was okay to share, right? Marinette reach for her phone.

“Mama, Papa, you won’t believe where I am!” Marinette said when they picked up. She had caught them at a free moment at the bakery.

“Where?” Tom asked.

“In Greece! At the beach. It’s so warm here.” The boys were too far ahead to hear what she was saying. Chloé gave her a questioning look. “It was Chloé’s idea. A very sudden trip. We’ll be back in Paris by midnight. Did you know her family owns a plane?”

“Actually, Daddy has three and Mother has one,” Chloé supplied, losing interest when she realized Marinette was talking in clever circles and wouldn’t reveal any pertinent information.

Marinette talked with her parents for a few minutes, until Sabine had to go to the register and Tom took it as a cue to get back to work. They didn’t really talk about anything in particular, which was what Marinette enjoyed best about it.

“Love you, sweetheart. Stay safe,” Tom added as he was about to hang up.

“Love you too, and I will,” Marinette said. In the sun, the spots where the ichor had touched were more obviously discolored. _Safe. I’ll try._

Marinette felt a bit guilty for lying, and for the fancy mini-holiday. Having Chloé as a friend was good for excuses. She was fun and bubbly. Though her frivolity and extravagance was at-times exasperating, Marinette had known her long enough that it was simply a part of her charm. Chloé wouldn’t be Chloé if she wasn’t lending out all her clothes, or suggesting sudden vacations—and having the means to pull it off.

Living where she did, Marinette was quite used to seeing the finer things in life. Heck, her parents’ business depended on indulgence. But Chloé—more than Alix or Adrien—took it to another level. Though the latter two weren’t above dropping hundreds of euros on sports equipment. She thought of her classmates, new and old, the sewing supplies she constantly bought, and the tuition her parents were helping her with. Money didn’t define them, but it was an irrevocable part of how they had grown up. How they were all still growing up.


	18. Standard-Issue Disasters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Important flashbacks and the long-awaited dinner.

Chloé texted Sabrina and Alya from Greece. She had been to the country before, on a family vacation when she was very young. Back then, and for years after, she had taken it all for granted. If Sabrina’s reactions to the photos and snaps she was sending were any indication, Chloé was still taking a lot of it for granted. As Chloé continued her leisurely stroll through the white sand beach, she told the two, in separate conversations, the details of the latest misadventures.

Raafa was floating near her head, half-hidden by her hair. To anyone who noticed, the kwami could have appeared to by a large, stuffed-toy earring. “This place is nice,” Raafa whispered dreamily. Chloé agreed. She had taken more holidays than she’d bothered to keep track of. All the high-end shopping and exotic locales were meant to make people happy. Kyra Panagia was beautiful, but it wasn’t the scenery that made it paradise. It was how Chloé had never felt as happy as the present: with Adrien and Nino in front of her, and Marinette behind her, as her phone connected her to her other friends. It _was_ nice.

Chloé lifted one shoulder to nudge her kwami in the process. “Raafa, you’re the best thing that ever happened to me.”

 

**Two Years Ago**

Chloé’s first day back could have gone a lot worse if it hadn't been for Adrien and Marinette. She had to give her father some credit. If it hadn’t been for his meddling, it might not have been a day back at all.

People gossiped and glared, but none of it sent pricks across her skin like the voice in her own head. The word _retribution_ echoed and clung to her like perfume. She felt like unraveling as she remembered everything she'd ever done. She acutely understood her own cruelty, which only made her want to cry more.

Chloé didn’t shed a tear. Not at school, and not at home. But, the next day, she had to do it again.

The following morning started out as well as the one before, but when lunch rolled around she didn’t run into Adrien or Marinette in their usual spots in the hallway. Rosé waved at her, because Rosé was always a sweetheart. Yet, no one was around the small cafeteria. _Did they all go to eat without me?_ Chloé couldn’t help but think. _That’s their game? Play nice and then slight me immediately? What a bad ploy._ If it were up to her, she would have dragged out the nice act before the backstabbing. It would have hurt more. It still stung.  
Ten minutes into the lunch period she got a text.  


**[Marinette Dupain-Cheng @12h55]**

**Sorry, forgot to tell you we don’t really gather for lunch Tuesdays. Today’s particularly busy day. Nino has sound systems, Alya’s working on the school paper, and Adrien had to leave early for a shoot. I’m in the art/design studio room if you want to join me.**

**[Chloé Bourgeois @ 12h56]  
It’s fine. I’ll go home to eat.**

**[Marinette Dupain-Cheng @ 12h59]**  
See you tomorrow.  
  


**[Chloé Bourgeois @ 13h00]**

**Yeah.**

  
Chloé adjusted to her new routine. She ate with Marinette, Adrien, Alya, and a few others from _collège_ Wednesday. She paid more attention in class to distract herself from everything else.

“You seem happier, sweetheart,” Her father commented over dinner on Wednesday.  
“I’m good now, thanks Daddy.” Chloé smiled. She wasn’t quite “good.” Not by a longshot. Not when Sabrina was still ignoring her calls and emails and texts. Not when a screenshot of posts from Internet trolls reacting to her press coverage had been anonymously left on her desk. Of course, she’d toss out the paper without telling anyone. Not when she still can’t look the other girls from her old clique in the eyes. Her text history consisted only of her father, Adrien, Marinette, and her mother. The ones to her mother and Adrien were only to announce her new phone number. She avoided social media because she couldn’t filter out the worst of the comments short of deleting her entire account. Deleting all her social media felt too extreme, and too obvious for Ava not to take advantage of.  
Zara came up to her Thursday afternoon when she was about to head home. They talked, and Chloé made a chatroom with Marinette and Adrien over text as soon as Zara was gone, as she was sliding into the car.  


**[Chloé Bourgeois @ 17h09]**

**My old friends, they invited me to lunch with them. What should I do?**

**[Marinette Dupain-Cheng @ 17h15]  
You still consider them your friends?**

**[Adrien Agreste @ 17h15]  
It’s your choice, Chlo.**

**[Chloé Bourgeois @ 17h31]  
I’m going to eat with them. Sabrina is there. I want to talk to her. She’s been ignoring my calls and texts.**

  
Chloé had even tried emailing her. Sabrina was the only member of the clique she had divulged her new number to. At least she hadn’t shared it.

Chloé had a newfound respect for Marinette. Truthfully, it wasn’t “newfound,” as much as it was something Chloé was no longer in denial about. Marinette was magnetic. She was popular without trying in a way Chloé had never been. There was a challenge in Marinette mannerisms, and Chloé finally realized what it was. Ava and Chloé herself had gone about challenging people hoping they would fail. Marinette pushed her around hoping Chloé would win. She would win.

 

Staring at the pecans of her salad, Chloé willed herself to speak first. “Why did you invite me, Ava. Did you really miss me so much?”  
“Actually, Zara invited you,” Ava said. “At first I thought it wasn’t worth it. Yet, you somehow managed to get closer to Adrien, despite it all, so I figured it would be fun.”  
“Adrien’s my friend,” Chloé snarled. The words felt like they meant more, saying them now. “He’s been good to talk to about things.” That statement might be a bit of a stretch, but Chloé wanted to wipe the smugness off Ava’s face.  
“You planning on stealing him from that little girlfriend of his?” Geraldine asked. Ava and Sophie tittered in laughter.  
Chloé clenched her hand. She had made fun of Marinette for years, but, for some reason, hearing anyone else talk like that made her want to stab them with her fork. “Marinette’s been good to talk to as well,” Chloé said, instead of going through with the impulse. “She may be tiny, but she’s definitely the bigger person.” Before anyone else could respond, she turned to Sabrina. “Sabrina, can I talk to you in private for a moment?”  
Sabina looked aghast. Prior to being addressed directly, she had spent lunch looking anywhere but Chloé, and hadn’t said a word. Sabrina glanced around for help.  
“She doesn't want to, clearly,” Ava said. “You did treat her pretty badly, so I don't see why she would.”  
The worst part was, the words were true.

Zara spoke to her in a low voice, but loud enough for the rest of the table to hear because they piped down about a party Sophie was throwing that Chloé hadn't heard about at all.  
“What did your father do about the press? Your reputation is pretty important, because your father is a public figure.”  
Chloé felt her gut heave. She hadn't even thought of it. Her mind flashed between Marinette, standing by her bathroom door with a box of sweets and Sabrina now, very intently focused on the sandwich in front of her. Her father had done nothing wrong. Her father would get shade or her stupid mistakes.

“He got me out of the clubs, but he didn’t do anything else,” Chloé said, even though she was thinking about how steep the learning curve for consequences was.  
“My dad doesn’t really know how to punish me either.” Zara giggled. They were speaking too low for the rest to hear now.  
“Why did you invite me to this lunch, Zara?”  
“Why did you accept the invitation?” Zara shot back.  
The rest of lunch passed with Ava and Geraldine filling up the space with more gossip, and Zara and Chloé glaring at each other, not sure how to answer each other's questions.

 

Chloé had been surprised when she defended Marinette at first. By the time the dust had settled in the afternoon it was Marinette and only Marinette she texted about the disaster of today’s lunch.

 

**[Chloé Bourgeois @ 17h03]**  
It was so awkward. Sabrina would hardly even look at me. Everyone else was the same as usual.  
She transcribed most of exactly what was said to Marinette. It wasn’t too difficult, as the conversation was burned into her memory.

  
**[Chloé Bourgeois @ 17h19]**

**Maybe Ava’s right, and it’s too late for me to apologize to Sabrina. Maybe things are too far gone to change.**

**[Marinette Dupain-Cheng @ 17h22]**

**I think you are many things Chloé.**

**I have never thought you were passive and spineless.**

  
Marinette was never afraid to stand up to her when things really mattered. She didn’t sugar-coat things for Chloé like most things people did. It was refreshing.  
She didn’t know if it was too late to make things better, but if she did nothing, they never would be. She would take a small chance over zero. Chloé called the driver to take her to Sabrina's house.

“One moment!” Chloé called when they had driven two blocks. “I want to stop at the confectionery there first.” Chloé rushed into the store and emerged with two large bags. She also ran to the flower shop across the street. Her driver tipped his hat at her, amused, when she returned to the car carrying a huge bouquet.

“All ready, Miss?”

Not yet. Not ever. “Yes, please continue along the designated route.”  
Sabrina answered the door when the doorbell rang. Chloé stepped through the door and started speaking, closing the door behind her, before Sabrina could say a word.

“I didn’t appreciate you when you were my only real friend. Besides Adrikins, but he’s different,” Chloé began. “I treated you awfully, and you deserved better. You still do. I’m not going to ask you to forgive me. I’m not sure I’d deserve it, but know that I am sorry. I will try to be a better friend if you give me a second chance.” She thrust the gifts into Sabrina’s arms, who accepted them reflexively.

“Wow, that’s a lot of flowers,” Sabrina said weakly. She placed the bouquet on the table by the door where a bowl for the house keys stood.

“WOW. That’s A LOT of caramels.” Sabrina brought out the contents of one of the bags. She put a handful of the caramels, individually wrapped in foil, into the ceramic bowl. Chloé tried to focus on the wallpaper, or the hats and umbrellas hanging from the coatrack, or the vintage cinema poster on the wall by the stairs, as Sabrina went through the second bag. She undid a ribbon to an orange box and popped a coconut truffle in her mouth.

Sabrina finished the chocolate and burst out laughing. The sound rang through the room. To Chloé, it sounded like music. How long had it been since she had heard Sabrina laugh? It was a sound she didn’t know what to do with. A sickening chill ran through her body. Chloé tensed up. _If she’s laughing at me. If she’s done with me, if she asks me to leave, I have to walk out of here without crying. It would ruin my makeup._

“This is absurd. Two dozen flowers, and caramels, and truffles. Hey, there’s almond honey in here. Lavender honey too.” The chuckles puttered into a soft smile. “You’ve always done things over-the-top.” Sabrina’s expression turned grave. “Ava said you didn’t really care. That you wouldn’t even notice I was gone. I ignored the texts and calls and emails because I wanted to believe her.”

“Of course I missed you! Why would you want to believe her?”

“I didn’t want to forgive you just yet. For, well, everything.” There were years of memories behind her words, and both girls knew it.

“You don’t have to,” Chloé affirmed. “Just give me another chance to be your friend. Or-or I can go.”

“There must be ten-kilos of stuff per bag,” Sabrina exclaimed. “I missed you, too. We can start there.”

Chloé rushed forward and kissed Sabrina’s cheeks three times, the Swiss custom, because two didn’t seem like enough. She felt her eyes prick. Seemed like she got what she wanted, but the tears were coming anyway.

 

She would receive her miraculous three months later.

\--

 

**Present Time**

 

Much of the time Marinette spent at school was now used up both spectating and participating in an intense, high-stakes competition. Otherwise known as her three groupmates trying to finish their projects on time. Willa was the best off, with only finishing touches of her looks and her oral presentation to work on. Juan and Valerie were in comparably worse shape, but Marinette technically wasn’t allowed to lift a finger to help them. Marinette spent her time mumbling her presentations under her breath while running through the powerpoints on her laptop. It was Wednesday afternoon. She had two days until the dinner with Adrien’s father, and exactly one week before the winter holidays started and all her groupmates would be on planes out of the city—whether their projects were finished or not. In her head, the situation translated to: _You have less than seven days to make everything perfect._

Val snapped at Marinette, telling her to stop rubbing in how much father along she was. Instead of adding fuel to the fire, Marinette moved across their area of the atelier, to hang around Willa’s table. Willa looked up from the embroidery she was doing by hand. The old skill was a lost art.

“Do not worry,” Willa said. “I am happy by your mumbling. It is interesting to listen to your French.” Marinette set her laptop down on the space Willa hastily cleared for her by shoving some scraps aside.

Willa put down her piece and shook out her hands. “I have started on my presentation too. I don’t want to just memorize and recite, but I don’t want to be wrong either. Can you grammar-check what I’ve got?” Willa pulled out her own computer.

Marinette was happy to be looking at something different. She’d told Willa that she found the English-speaker’s French very cute, but Willa insisted she wanted it flawless. The obsessive, perfectionist tendency, Marinette could empathize with.

After two hours at Willa’s table, Marinette took a break. She got out a sketchbook and started doodling randomly. Willa peered up and noticed the haute couture ball gown Marinette’s drawing was turning into.

“That’s getting way too detailed to be an abstract sketch.” Willa was probably referring to the fabric dimension calculations and the by-millimeter measurements of the folds. “Are you planning on making a second draping class final project?”

“Ha. Ha. Ha. No.” Marinette was horrified at the thought of getting a gown as extravagant as her initial sketch together in a week. _I’m ambitious, but not completely mental._ She had already completed one piece of eveningwear for the semester. “Working out the measurements is fun. It relieves stress sometimes,” Marinette admitted. _If I tone bits down, I might actually be able to make this gown for myself, to wear to Adrien’s party in January._

Willa chuckled darkly. “I thought I liked sewing for fun too. Until I’ve been forced to do it for what feels like every hour of my life.”

“It’s not that bad, Willa,” Marinette said diplomatically.

“I’m glad you think so.” Willa took a sip of the extra-large cup of coffee on her desk, tilted her head back, and made a face like she just realized she’d emptied it. The girl, still wearing a thimble, regarded Marinette mournfully. “I sincerely apologize for making fun of you for camping out here every night after school, basically all of last month.”

“I just feel a lot better if I finish things early,” Marinette explained. _I honestly can’t do it any other way. It was down to the wire after you factor in my night job._

“So, are you going to actually make this one?” Willa gestured toward the open page of the sketchbook.

Marinette was tempted to lie, or give some non-definitive answer, but Willa’s voice was earnest.

“I am,” Marinette said. “I just have to decide on the cloth. Once I know the feel of it, I can really start fine-tuning the design.”

“I think you’re basically the super-nerd version of us being at an artsy school,” Willa teased.

Marinette sat up a little straighter. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“You should.” Willa moved on from the shirt she had been touching up to the bomber jacket that was a part of her second look. “Hey, what do you think of these buttons? If I cover them to match the inside lining, do you think it would be too much?”

“Willa, you finished it last week, okay? Relax. It looks perfect.”

Willa would be fine. Juan had taken to wearing noise cancellation headphones, playing a mix of reggae music and classical guitar from his mp3 player, and ignoring everyone. The past few days had indicated Juan was frighteningly efficient under the influence of Bob Marley and Pete Romero. It was something Nino would have appreciated, Marinette thought.

With the mounting time crunch, Val was getting work done at the cost of her snapping at anyone she crossed paths with and ingesting her weight in tea. Her groupmates would all be in the workshop for at least part of the weekend. Marinette, however, left early Friday afternoon, and wasn’t planning on going back until Monday.

 

**Saturday**

She found herself playing Halo on Nino’s Xbox, which he had brought over to her and Adrien’s apartment, Saturday afternoon. Alya, Chloé, and Sabrina had converted the kitchen island into a study space overflowing with textbooks, extension cords, and gel pens of a rainbow of colors. All the members of the Press & Co. chat were there, although Adrien had stepped out to answer the phone when Alya asked the burning question.

“How did dinner go last night?”

“What dinner?” Sabrina ventured to ask while reviewing notes on glycolysis.

“Our girl here got to meet Adrien’s father last night. At a dinner, in his home, which he personally invited her to,” Nino explained. “He was there in person.” Nino made the irritation in his tone abundantly clear. He seemed to hold a personal grudge against Gabriel Agreste, because Nino knew Adrien never would.

“I hope it was only a grand disaster on a minor scale?” Chloé twirled a stand of hair in her fingers.

“Bee, grand and minor cancel each other out. So you’re left with disaster,” Alya declared. “LB, was it a standard-issue disaster?” Marinette felt the artificial recoil as she hit her target in Halo.

 

**Friday Night**

The Gorilla had picked them up from their apartment that evening. Adrien wore a white dress shirt and black slacks. Marinette dressed in a sky-blue blouse and navy A-line skirt that went down to mid-calf. Gabriel hadn’t specified a dress code, but Marinette felt safer to be overdressed. Although it was hard to been too formal in the Agreste family mansion.

“Evening, Father,” Adrien said as they were taken into the dining room.

“Hello Adrien.” Gabriel stood at the head of the table. Adrien pulled out a chair for Marinette and for himself, both to Gabriel’s left,

“Thank you for inviting me tonight, Mr. Agreste.” Marinette kissed both his cheeks, as per proper social etiquette, while internally screaming. _Awkward. So awkward. Don’t panic. Don’t eat the salad with the dessert fork. Don’t trip. Don’t spill soup on yourself. Don’t say something you’ll regret._

“Thank you for coming, Ms. Dupain-Cheng.”

“Marinette is fine,” she said as Gabriel took his seat. Marinette and Adrien followed suite.

“How is school going? I understand you are attending my _alma_ _mater_.”

“I am,” Marinette said. “Did you always want to be a designer when you were a child?” The topic was common ground. It probably wouldn’t land them in hot water.

“Actually, for the most part, I wanted to be a theatre hand, until I realized my favorite part was the costuming.” Gabriel called Nathalie in to go over some quick business, before dismissing her.

“I know you mentioned that once, years ago, Father,” Adrien said. “We went to the theatre a lot too. Mother loved it.”

Gabriel nodded. “I went to an opera and found myself thinking of better costumes.” He focused on Marinette. “How did your interest start?”

“By noticing people’s clothes on the street.” They continued to talk shop as the appetizer, and then the soup, was brought out. Marinette described her classes and teachers and projects. It was something she loved, but with Gabriel, she spoke in a guarded tone, steeling herself for the rug to be swept from under her.

“Have you considered internships for the summer yet?”

“No, I haven’t. Although I am in contact with my co-workers from Balmain. I wouldn’t mind working for them again, if they’ll take me.”

“They’ll take you if there’s a spot,” Adrien guessed. “Amalia will vouch for you for sure.”

“It’s too soon to know,” Marinette admitted. “Adrien, what about you?”

“I’ll be modeling and fencing, the usual,” Adrien said. Marinette knew he didn’t want to start lab work for another year or two.

“Ms. Dupain-Cheng, what do you think about my son’s modeling?” Gabriel asked as the roast lamb entrée was served.

Marinette shrugged. “It’s fine. It’s his thing.”

“As a career?”

“Over what he’s studying in university?” Marinette turned to Adrien, because she didn’t want to talk about him like he wasn’t even in the room. “I don’t care what you do, as long as you’re happy.”

Gabriel cleared his throat. “Wouldn’t it be convenient for you, regarding your aspirations, if he continued modeling?”

The remark stung more that Marinette expected. She took a long sip of water. Her next words came out firm and deliberate. “I am not completely sure what you are implying. Regardless, I want to make it clear right now that I don’t want to succeed in this business based on anything but my own merit.”

“I’ve called up your teachers and seen your work. It shows promise,” Gabriel continued, nonplussed. “In the summer, would you consider interning for me?”

Adrien’s eyes bulged as Marinette choked on her piece of lamb. She got through the coughing fit by downing her chalice of water. Adrien rubbed circles on her back until she was better.

“Are you being serious, sir?” Marinette asked after she took another sip of water once the chalice was refilled.

“Why wouldn’t it have been a serious request?” Gabriel looked genuinely baffled.

Marinette chewed and (properly) swallowed two more pieces of lamb before answering. “It’s too early to decide. Plus, the way I understand it, you wouldn’t let anyone into your dare-I-say empire, until they proved themselves worthy. I don’t think this conversation counts a proper interview.” Marinette looked away from Gabriel. “Adrien, when are your finals?” She knew when, but she wanted to talk about something else. Adrien told them, which provided about thirty seconds of filler because the silence descended.

After a few more minutes Marinette worked up the courage to speak again. “Mr. Agreste, with all due respect, why did you invite me over for supper? Why now? If you wanted to talk about internships, you could have called around February or March.”

“You aren’t like what I expected,” Gabriel admitted gruffly.

“What exactly did you expect?” Marinette asked without missing a beat.

Gabriel didn’t respond. He went on to mention that their next course was a small salad meant to cleanse the palette.

Adrien was looking uncomfortable. Adrien was looking like how Marinette felt about this entire situation. Her response was to be prickly. His was to go flat. “You haven’t answered Marinette’s question, Father. What were you expecting, exactly?” Marinette took his hand under the table and squeezed it.

“I wasn’t expecting it to be this serious,” Gabriel admitted. “To get this far.”

“The sentiment isn’t unsurprising, but I appreciate the new faith,” Adrien said briskly.

The topic shifted to Adrien’s upcoming modeling schedule and plans for the holidays, while Gabriel was away on Important Business. (He would apparently by flying to Hong Kong between Christmas and New Year’s.) The Christmas party Rosé was organizing came up.

Gabriel and Adrien were cordial and polite, and it wasn’t anything Marinette had gotten used to hearing from her boyfriend during a meal. Whenever Adrien ate with her parents, he laughed and joked and helped himself to seconds and thirds. Nino could get him to participate in a napkin war whenever they ate at a place with paper napkins. It was a very serious battle of miniature projectiles over dispensers and mobile phone blockades. He would lapse into talking about his readings with almost anyone, but especially Alya and Sabrina, because they shared some classes. Personally, Marinette enjoyed hearing about the laws of thermodynamics or how subatomic particles seemingly went against the conservation of matter. Much of it went over her head, but Marinette simply liked listening to Adrien talk about something he was passionate about.

Adrien was talking to his father like one would talk to a casual acquaintance. He talked about school, and work, and all the usual topics. Yet Gabriel Agreste was never as receptive. Adrien had mentioned once that, when he was younger, he would talk mostly with his mother during supper, before that was no longer an option. He only ever interacted with his father with his mother there as a mediator, a filter, a guard. There was a Blanche-shaped gap between them and not many scraps to salvage the relationship with. Adrien was trying. Adrien was always trying. However, if Gabriel Agreste was always going to be dismissive, no amount of effort was ever going to be enough. Everything he did, everything he said, Gabriel seemed to expect nothing less, and nothing more of his son, even when he went and fulfilled every goddamn impossible expectation. Marinette’s hand clenched into a tight fist.

“This has been a fine evening.” Gabriel Agreste rose after dessert had been cleared. Marinette had barely tasted it, being caught up in her own thoughts. “I do have a lot of work to do. Goodbye, Adrien. I’ll have Nathalie forward you the upcoming schedules. I hope to meet with you as often as we meet now.”

Gabriel was walking them to the door when he turned to Marinette. “I hope to see you again. I’m glad my son finally did something right.”

That’s when Marinette lost it, Adrien had to keep a hand on both her shoulders to keep her from stepping up and possibly punching Gabriel in the face.

“I am ‘something done right’? Like some prize? Do you know how many wonderful things Adrien has done?” Marinette hissed. “I think I got it. I finally figured out why it seems like no matter what he does, it’s never good enough for you. You never cared what he did. Just what he didn’t. You wanted him to never defy or disobey you. Then, he walked into that public school building, and you’ve never really forgiven him since. You don’t care what he does with his future, just as long as it’s something you have control over.”

Gabriel blinked. He didn’t deny it. His brows furrowed.

“You know people can’t be possessions, right? Especially your own children,” Marinette continued. “They aren’t made of clay, and they aren’t meant to be shaped to your every whim. I know you love your son—” Those words were choked out, but Marinette still believed in some form of parental love from Gabriel, which was why she hadn’t been evicted from the house for her outburst. “Try to see that Adrien is here too.”

Adrien squeezed her shoulder. “Marinette, stop, please, it’s really okay,” he said gently.

“No. It isn’t.”

“I don’t want to make him angry,” Adrien said flatly.

“Why aren’t _you_ MORE angry?” She didn’t care that Gabriel Agreste could hear her at this point. She didn’t care that she would probably never get that internship offer again. She wanted Gabriel—Hawkmoth—to know how much he had hurt Adrien. Was still in the process of hurting. Something, _something_ had to get through to him, right?

“I’ve come to terms with it.” Those words carried a weight Marinette couldn’t quite pinpoint. “Father, it’s really alright. It was nice to see you. Merry Christmas, since I won’t see you before then.” It sounded like a sigh and a challenge, at the same time.

Marinette relented at Adrien’s tone. She crossed her arms as she let Adrien steer her out. “Happy New Year.”

“I stand by my statement, Marinette,” Gabriel said as the front door swung shut behind them. “Happy holidays, Adrien.”

She had somehow managed to get Gabriel Agreste’s approval. Marinette jumped up and down in frustration, and realized her nails had drawn blood, pressed against her skin. It didn’t matter much if Adrien was still being treated as so much less than what he deserved. Than what he was.

Adrien saw the bloody indents on her hand and clasped his hand over them. “We survived. C’mon, I feel like patrolling tonight.” He pulled her toward the car waiting for them.

 


	19. Fireworks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The holiday season chapter posted in May. Happy spring/summer, everyone!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those interested, I started a collection of short stories and extra bits called _Partials_. Everything I post there happens in the Finding Volpina-verse.
> 
> http://archiveofourown.org/works/10860990/chapters/24121245

Rosé’s Christmas party was a potluck, but she very explicitly instructed Marinette to bring cookies from her parents’ bakery. Adrien brought a cake from them too. Although Rosé coordinated the party, it was held at Alix’s place at her insistence. Marinette and Adrien headed to Alix’s townhouse with their contributions.

“The ham took so long,” Jukela lamented as she let Marinette and Adrien in. They had shown up at 7, the specified time, which meant they were early. “Then we had to do the vegetarian and the beef dish. Someone had to have everything perfect.” Jukela encircled her girlfriend, who was waiting to take their coats. “We managed to finish the food prep around five minutes ago. The ham is finally in the oven.”

Rosé gave Jukela a peck on the lips. “Thank you for making everything perfect.” She turned to Marinette and Adrien. “Can you help setup the board games in the parlor? Alix has the video game consoles out, but there are stacks of other boxes.”

Jukela led them to the parlor, and then returned to the kitchen.

“Hey, you’ve got Lord of the Rings Monopoly, Scrabble, and Candyland,” Adrien exclaimed as he peered at the assortment of boxes piled on the table by the door. “I wasn’t sure board games still existed.”

“I wasn’t either,” Alix said from where she was untangling wires in front of the TV screen across the room. “Found them gathering dust today. Thought it would be a good throwback. Of course, so could the fact that I found the N64. I remember watching my brother play it. It’s super old.”

They picked out the board games they wanted to keep, and put the rest back in boxes, under Alix’s direction. Marinette and Adrien helped roll in the second TV, because of course Alix had a second TV on a cart in the house. In that corner, they set up the PS4.

By 7:30pm, all the other guests had arrived. It was a real _troisième_ reunion. With contributions from the rest of the class, they ended up with an assortment of Italian, Korean, Chinese and Turkish take-away. The food was self-serve, on paper plates and plastic utensils in the kitchen-dining room area. After eating and talking over dinner, most of the guests headed to the parlor-turned-game-room.

The N64 was a surprising hit, considering how old the graphics looked, blown up on that huge screen. Marinette caught Nathaniel staring, fascinated at the retro images. She sat down on the empty chair next to his. “Do you draw things like that for school?”

“Not really. Not yet,” Nathaniel said. “We’re still in foundation levels. I’m trying to imagine all my drawings compressed to 8-bit form.”

They compared notes about their very specialized schools as a handful of their old classmates debated whether to play Smash or Mario cart.

“I still get nervous about people seeing my designs,” Marinette admitted. “Especially since they’re just doodles.”

“Remember the teachers who would get angry at us for drawing in class? Constantly telling us to ‘pay attention?’”

That’s why you kept sketching paper under all your books right?” Marinette recalled. “Kept your books neat and motivated you to stay awake and take notes faster—so you could get back to finishing whatever you were working on.” Marinette sighed, thinking about designs always required one-track focus, unless inspiration struck. It was hard to manage simultaneously with schoolwork. “I never had such initiative.”

“You seemed far-away in class anyway, like you were thinking about so many things at once, when you weren’t taking notes or doodling,” Nathaniel mused.

In the _terminale_ year, she had had a lot to think about. About applying to schools, but also about Hawkmoth. There had been—was always—so much to think about. “You were the opposite.” Marinette grinned at the thought of old times, which, honestly, hadn’t been so long ago. “I remember than entire comic strip you finished in French lit discussion. That teacher didn’t care about your doodling, so long as you scored well on the tests.”

“My ideal teacher.” Nathaniel laughed. “That comic strip went into some of my art portfolios, for the schools where I could submit more than just drawings from life.”

“Really? I didn’t know. That’s cool,” Marinette said. “You think you made the right choice, about school?”

Nathaniel answered without hesitating. “Oh yeah. It’s tough, but I love it there. What about you?”

Marinette considered the late nights, crazy hours, slightly frustrating schoolmates, and endless smell of bundles of cloth. Knowing her hobbies, they were stuff she would be dealing with no matter what. “Same. It’s great. Just wait until we’re sophomores and the novelty wears off.”

 

Out in the hallway, still in full view of the parlor, Chloé found herself talking with Alix and Rosé. Alix, who was in the professional speedskating circuit, described her training indifferently as the two blondes listened in amazement and horror. In general, the training was going well.

In _lycée,_ Alix and Nathaniel had been the most shocked when Chloé had changed. She had apologized to both sometime in _première_.

“Well, Alya and Marinette hangs out with you, so you can’t be that awful,” Alix had said breezily. Now, talking to them, they were cordial. Rosé and Chloé discussed their respective school lives.

Alix chuckled when Chloé mentioned finals. “Ms. Bourgeois actually worrying about grades, who would have thought.”

Chloé stiffened, and Rosé interjected. “You grew up,” Rosé said sweetly. “It’s the best thing that could have happened.”

“It’s not bad.” Alix flashed Chloé her trademark-crooked-smile, and Chloé relaxed.

“You though,” Chloé said. “Knowing you since you were three, it’s no surprise you became a pro-athlete.”

“You were always so competitive, Alix,” Rosé mused. “Remember that time playing dodge ball back when we were like, what, nine? You had to get stitches for a split lip because you dived onto gravel to avoid getting hit.”

“Hey,” Alix defended. “I got to eat nothing but ice cream for a week after. It was awesome.”

At times, Chloé felt awkward in that house, with so many familiar faces. In all the society parties, she maintained a carefully presented image. Talking to casual acquaintances who were basically strangers was easy. Here, where everyone had known her since before she could write the alphabet, there was no pretense. Everyone could have treated her a lot worse. Even those who had never been overly friendly with her treated her like an acquaintance.

Everyone seemed to be doing well, in general. Kim had caught her in one of his Snaps earlier. He was currently bumbling through Zelda in decades-old graphics. Max was half-coaching him through it from across the room, and half-playing Monopoly with Ivan, Mylene and Sabrina. From what Chloé had heard from Adrien and Nino, Max was doing stellar academically, like always. Marinette and Nathaniel were chatting by the Monopoly table, while everyone else was sitting or standing around the four-poster Mario cart game, either lost in their own conversations, or very into the game. (Adrien and Alya were currently vying for first place.) Rosé had proposed donating whatever money they were going to spend on Secret Santa to charity instead, and everyone agreed. There was to be a separate gathering for giving gifts to all those involved in the miraculouses. Chloé’s third and fourth gatherings planned for the general end-of-year season, were to see Daddy’s family, and then Mother’s family.

Four Christmas gatherings. That was something. Technically, this one was Christmas with a hint of Hanukkah, as a menorah had been setup in Nathaniel’s honor as well. Four holiday gatherings happening somewhere between now and New Year’s, and Chloé had a distinct feeling that the parties with her friends were going to make her feel the way the parties with her family were supposed to. She was more than fine with the discrepancy.

\--

 

In retrospect, they were just surprised it hadn’t happened sooner.

Nino sent a message to one of the group chats. _Team’s gonna have to do the next field trip without me._ He elaborated when they all met for lunch the day after the Christmas party.

“I have to go to my cousin’s wedding. It’s a huge three-day affair in Nice. My mom RSVP-ed for my brother and me,” Nino said between bites of Chinese take-out. “I tried to get out of going, but Mom was like ‘you just went to your friend’s Christmas party’ and ‘I asked if you were working at all that weekend, and to keep it free if possible like two weeks ago.’ Dude, it’s super sudden because they’ve been engaged for years without ever setting a date.”

Nino pointed a finger at Adrien and Marinette. “Whenever you two get married, you better not pull that kind of thing, okay? I want a few months warning at least, and room to plan an epic bachelor party,” Nino said, which caused the pair to freeze up.

“Dully noted,” Marinette managed to stammer out after she realized Adrien had turned too red to say anything. “Congrats to your cousin, I guess.”

“He’s always been one of the crazier free-spirited ones, so this is right up his alley.” Nino sighed. “I really couldn’t think of a good excuse, outside of faking sick. Even then, I’d have to try to attend.”

“No big deal,” Adrien shrugged. “It’s your family, man.”

“I’m sure we can handle one giant fox without you,” Chloé said. “Not that we won’t miss you.” Her words had an over-exaggerated, mocking sweetness, but she meant some of it. As far as Marinette could tell, she always meant some of it.

“As nice as it is to have someone who can fly, we’ll figure something out,” Marinette said as she casually slipped sweets into her bag. She exchanged a brief look of worry with Tikki. As much as the team could change on-demand in response to their circumstances, they had gotten so accustomed to functioning as a unit of four. However, with a flash of guilt etched across Nino’s face, Marinette knew it was an inconvenience they simply needed to deal with. If Marinette were in the same position, she would feel like it was her fault, when no one was to blame. If something went wrong, for once something irreparable, Nino would think it was because he hadn’t been there to help. The simplest, most-difficult-to-achieve solution popped into Marinette’s head: they had to make sure nothing happened.

“Just do as usual,” Nino commanded. “Then, come back and tell me all about it.” Which translated to _no one die, please_ , though no one cared to say so aloud.

\--                                                                                              

 

Though the architecture and layout were completely different, the streets of Taipei had a vibrancy to them that reminded Ladybug of the streets Paris. Ladybug had instinctively stayed indoors during the Christmas and New Year’s festivities growing up. She had seen the Eifel Tower plenty of time from her window, or on the way to school, that fighting the crowds during peak holidays to catch a light or fireworks show simply wasn’t worth it. (Besides, they were just about the same year after year, and her roof provided a perfectly good view.) The group applied the same logic to Taipei.

The Labyrinth had spat them out into an old shopping district, near a wall that blocked the river. From there, the team had tracked Volpina’s fragment across the city, and sought to lure any akuma that would form as far away as possible from Taipei 101 and the crowds surrounding it.  They ended up at the coast of the Tamsui district. Ladybug figured it could have been worse. There were people teeming around in groups, snapping photos and eating street food, but they weren’t packed like sardines to the extent it was hard to move. Then, Ladybug realized that given the time difference, it was Christmas Eve already, and not the 23rd. It was also late in the afternoon, and there weren’t quite as many tourists as there would be in the evening.

A few passersby noticed them, but before they could grab their phones to snap a picture, the masked heroes vaulted to the roof of the nearest buildings. From the roof, Ladybug surveyed the landscape, an array of temples used as markers. Boxy modern apartment buildings stood next to older ones with cement outsides. Air conditioning units hung out of most windows. Ladybug tried to avoid stepping on any when they followed the river towards Tamsui Old Street.

The old streets were crowded with people under tent flaps selling their wares and haggling with customers. The signs of buildings were vertical, and mopeds threaded past slower-moving pedestrians. Even more mopeds, some with helmets dangling off the handles, were parked at an angle along the winding roads. Palm trees were in abundance, and Yangming Mountain was in the background. Ladybug glanced at ornate carvings that decorated a temple made from red brick and gray stone as her feet hit the orange tiles of the slanted roofs. At one point, they hopped off the roofs because the cluster of buildings stopped on the road they were following, opening up to a boardwalk.

The akuma focused in on them as the lowered themselves to ground level. People actively avoided the area. As the three of them cautiously approached, the akuma pounced.

Everything happened quickly, but heightened senses meant it all occurred in excruciating detail to Ladybug. Harsh white teeth against snapping jaws and those fiery eyes haunted her the way her burns did, though her skin had all but healed. The way he squared back, shifted to his left side, and forced his muscles to relax were a red flag for what Chat Noir was about to do. Honeybee and Ladybug dove out of his way. Ladybug had to push away her thoughts of how _this would be the start of it all going wrong_ to force herself to move.

Watching Chat was like watching someone fall in terrifying slow-motion.

He tackled the beast as it met him on a downward arc. The force of the impact lurched the fox forward briefly, as if it were made of putty. The fox was shot back and squirmed on the ground momentarily before it stood back up. Chat swayed, slight dizzy, but quickly realigned himself in time to see the creature pounce again.

”Cataclysm,” Chat Noir said with frightening calm as he slammed the orb of dark energy into the akuma’s open mouth as it leapt to bite Chat. This shadow fox was small, about the same size as the last one, which had bit Celeste. Ladybug guessed Chat’s sudden ferocity was a knee-jerk reaction to that recent memory.

Cataclysm didn’t stop it. If anything, it only antagonized it as shadows quickly moved to fill in the hole that resulted from Chat’s attack. Its growling and sniping nearly caused a passing moped rider to crash into a cart displaying clothes for sale. Ladybug considered the number of people (most were scurrying away, some were taking pictures first) and Chat, whose ring would start blinking rapidly soon.

“Go re-transform, you.” Ladybug put a hand on Chat Noir’s arm, putting distance between them and the fox, which was still trying to get its bearings together so it could reattempt to kill them. “We’ll drive the akuma towards the coast, as far from people as possible.”

“Like Copenhagen,” Honeybee supplied. The akuma was currently tangled up in her whip, which was utilized as something akin to a chew toy for a dog and a ball of yarn for a cat. She looked towards the Tamsui River. Though it would only be a two-minute walk on a normal day, she’d never tried getting there dragging an angered demon with her.

A sudden burst of energy from the demon meant that Honeybee didn’t have to try. The akuma yanked Honeybee’s whip out of her hands and sprang forward toward a little girl with flower clips in her hair who looked about six. She was holding the hand of a woman who was probably her mother and clutching a giant stuffed squirrel with the other. Ladybug sprang forward and fended the akuma off by spinning her yo-yo like a shield. The mother picked up the girl and ran. The little girl called out, as her giant stuffed toy was left on the road.

“Great,” Ladybug heard Honeybee mutter as she cracked her slightly-disintegrating whip and incensed the akuma to follow her. “Chat not only angered it, he made it rabid.”

As Honeybee coaxed the akuma to the water’s edge Ladybug picked up the fallen squirrel. She caught up to the ladies in a few seconds and pressed the giant stuffed animal into the tiny girl’s hands before using a lamppost as leverage to swing to where Honeybee was keeping the akuma at bay.

“The shard is in the right hind leg,” Honeybeee informed her. “Upper thigh.”

“I see it,” Ladybug said. “Least we don’t have to perform surgery this time.”

Ladybug flung her yo-yo forward and caught the hind leg in question, but the akuma kicked out and freed itself. It backed into the water, and with a swish of its tail, pelted Ladybug and Honeybee with a few drops as it made a loud splash.

Then, it sprang forward, and in a blur of shadow. sharp teeth sank into Honeybee’s leg.

Honeybee’s yowl was like a sharp, sudden whistle. Ladybug’s heart nearly stopped as she heard the crunch that followed the fox’s jaws snapping in a blur of movement. She froze for a second, and then it was all instinct. The same instinct that had driven Chat earlier. It was muscle memory and split-second adrenaline-guided reactions because there was a point when they had to move and do something. Ladybug flung her yo-yo at the fox’s head in an attempt to get the akuma to release Honeybee’s leg and turn toward her.

“That does it,” Honeybee shrieked, her face contorted with pain. “Honeycomb!”

The akuma froze as it was incased in ribbons of gold. Honeycomb was stuffed into the akuma’s mouth, spilling out and encasing its snout and nostrils and neck. It elongated into tendrils and wrapped around each leg like vines, locking the akuma in its predatory position. Honeybee shifted out of the way on her hands and un-bitten leg.

“Hurry up and get the shard so you can fix my leg!” Honeybee said with a huff. “And my poor whip!” Honeybee had antagonized the fox with the weapon, which was worse for wear. She was acting high strung, but if the effectiveness was any indication, her will was firm. Ladybug hadn’t seen what Celeste’s wound had looked like in the cistern, and by the time they had gotten out of the darkness, it was completely healed. Now, in broad daylight, every detail of Honeybee’s wound was visible. There was crimson blood, white flesh, and a glint of something that might have been bone, but if she dwelled too long on the fact she was possibly going to puke, so instead she turned to the akuma’s hind leg, were an orange-white fragment was jutting out.

Chat Noir caught up with them as Ladybug held her open yo-yo to the fragment. It was poking out to such an extent that, when the shard met the white light, it was pulled into the yo-yo after a slight wobble, like metal drawn to a magnet. Ladybug purified it and said her usual phrase. By the time the ladybugs were finished with Honeybee, her suit was still torn, but her leg was healed. It was like nothing had ever bitten it.

“This retrieval may have been our most efficient yet,” Chat Noir said as he helped Honeybee up.

“Yeah, all we needed was human bait,” Honeybee said dryly.

“Looks like we attracted quite a crowd again,” Ladybug said. “Chat, did you find a good place to hide and de-transform?”

The three of them sprang up past the people who had gathered around them and launched themselves up to nearby roofs. Chat pointed out a steep set of stairs. The front of the stairs was painted in a way that must have made a picture when viewed from the bottom of the hill, but from their vantage point, was only a blur of colors. Honeybee de-transformed on the roof of the house next to the top of the steps. Ladybug helped her down before releasing her own transformation.

From their elevation, they caught a glimpse of the neighborhood. In the background, there were green mountains, despite it being winter. Closer to them stood artsy buildings clustered together. They formed eclectic, brightly-colored, hilly streets. The architecture was like that of some districts in Paris or Berlin, or Zurich, because all cities were made of the same basic anatomy, weren’t they? But each had its own zest. Adrien had traveled here before, with his mother. He had shown Marinette pictures, once. He had described the drive across the highway from the other side of the city to this very district, with the photographs to help him along.

Marinette recalled pictures taken from a moving vehicle showing portions of the city she would probably not see in-person. A costal park wrapped around a huge lake. A white bridge with its overhang shaped like a slanted, upside-down tuning fork or antibody. Skyscrapers towering over smaller residential units, all built in matching sets. Adrien had told her about riding a Ferris wheel attached to a department store. One structure that had stood out against the dense mountains was giant and temple-like. It had thatched orange roofs and huge red pillars. Even taken from a distance on the freeway, jade and stones tiles were visible. It was an old foreign embassy, he had explained.

Marinette and Chloé found Adrien, who was looking lost out of costume, across the street. As foreigners, they stood out among the crowds, particularly Chloé and Adrien with their height and blond hair. Not to mention all three of them were lightly dressed compared to the locals. Marinette was okay in a sweater, hat, and scarf, but she found the streets teeming with people dressed in brightly-colored puffy jackets. However, word was still getting around that there had been an akuma attack nearby, and Paris’ masked heroes had been spotted. They stood there, playing the tourists who didn’t understand why people were running toward the coast.

The Tamsui district of Taipei (which, according to Adrien, was Romanized inaccurately, as the name sounded more like Dansui) was almost as touristy as the city-center. They found a wonton place at the end of Old Town with stairs to the second level so steep they felt like ladders. They ordered off English menus, mostly by pointing at the pictures. They were also a blessing because Adrien was struggling with the Traditional Chinese characters (he had learned Simplified.) Once they had finished the delicious meal and paid at the counter, they sorted out the amount of Taiwanese Yen they had between them, and set out to explore.

The path towards Old Town had Christmas lights strung across street lamps as well as red and yellow paper lanterns hanging from shops. It was likely in preparation for the Western holidays and Lunar New Year. The decorations shone harmoniously together, contributing to the festive atmosphere. As they walked through the old shopping district, they heard snatches of Mandarin along with several other dialects. Store owners spoke practiced phrases of English, Japanese, and Korea for the tourists.

Following the sweet smell of incense, Chloé suggested they enter the first temple they saw. It was nestled between more modern buildings. However, when Chloé tried to take a picture, the kwami spotted her, calling it “faithless” and “bad luck,” so she pocketed her phone.

Marinette thought the inside of the temple was everything you could ever find on a Chinese paper fan in 3D. There were sculptures and carvings packed with swirling cloud motifs and images of minor gods rendered in every color combination under the sun. The various pillars and support beams were painted solid orange, green, yellow or red, the colors stacking electrically together among the bug-eyed dragons, tigers, and phoenixes rendered in stone, wood, or gold. It was like Japanese and Chinese aesthetics had been combined with a baroque mindset.

A few bright metal furnaces and minor circular enclaves filled with thinner red and thicker brown sticks of burning incense left a comforting scent. It reminded Marinette of the small, miniature, shrine Sabine kept at home. Standing under that roof, despite all the chaos around them, Marinette felt at peace.

Once back outside, the three of them explored the stalls of the night market with gumption, especially considering how nice the exchange rate was to them.  Adrien, who had been to these exact streets years before, was slightly upset that the city had apparently changed the layout of the market so that things were more spaced out. “All the tents were packed together at the center of the streets before,” Adrien sighed. “It’s felt more like an open-air market and less like a bunch of store fronts.”

Marinette appreciated all the little knickknacks at the different shops. There were charms of mascot characters made from beads, neat displays of jewelry, and small wooden carvings of animals and gods, all crammed into a shop full of plush toys. A fair amount of the merchandise was for Spirited Away. Marinette would later find out it was because the place the bathhouse was based on was located right outside of Taipei. Adrien showed them wooden carvings and plush keychains of the miraculous users he found.

“I’m buying this for Nino,” Adrien held up a plushie of Celeste about half the length of his palm attached to a copper keychain,

Chloé bought Turkish ice cream at a shop located on the corner of the street, right by the boardwalk for them to share. It was fun to eat, but had been even more fun to acquire. The vendor, a smiling, bearded man, held out the cone of ice cream using a claw attached to a long metal pole. He maneuvered the claw so that it danced and flipped acrobatically, dropping it and catching it again on occasion. Nothing fell, even as the ice cream was held complete upside down. The flashy game of keep-away went on with each customer for at least fifteen seconds, until the customer was joyfully amused or starting to get annoyed. Chloé played along and got her ice cream sooner. They picked at the pistachio flavored ice cream with 3 spoons, and Chloé ate what was left in the cone.

Marinette and Chloé snapped pictures of everything they ate. Chloé and Adrien had been to Taiwan before, on separate occasions in their privileged, well-traveled childhoods, and advised getting only one thing of food to share from each stand they were interested in to avoid being overwhelmed.

Next to the Turkish ice cream stand was a booth that sold fried squid, which tasted good. More unusual to the three Parisians were the fried quail eggs, stacked on a stick like a kebab. Strawberries and cherries coated in hardened red syrup were served the same way. They tried the quail eggs, which were delicious enough for Marinette to avoid thinking about how cute quail were, but not the candied fruit. They passed on the ice cream soft serve 45 centimeters tall, and entered a traditional sweets shop. The sweets shop had a variety of cakes and mochi and red bean paste stuffed into eggs pastries. It also had its own take on some German pastries. The manager knew the basics of French (and at least five other languages, it seemed) enough to entice them to enter. They stayed because there were free samples of everything. Chloé went and bought boxes of cakes and pounds of mochi.

Sometime after they each bought a “small” bubble tea that would have equaled a double-extra-large anywhere else, Chloé wandered off on her own, saying she would meet them back at the Labyrinth in two hours.

Despite the stores full of plush keychain and stuffed animals, Adrien insisted he try his hand at the rooms full of claw machines along the boardwalk. Marinette got sucked into the game as well when she saw a machine full of miraculous plush dolls. Adrien tried to win a smaller version of the squirrel Ladybug had picked up for the child earlier.

The claw machines had a vendetta against them.

One would think being a superhero for a few years (and playing so many video games in general) would have given them an advantage in arcade games. Or, one would hope. After losing the equivalent of twelve Euros to attempts to get a variety of plush toys, Marinette went over to where Adrien was. She had been particularly entranced with winning a Hello Kitty doll the size of her palm. Marinette wasn’t even sure why she wanted it so badly. One-upon-a-time, she could have hung it off an old-school flip-phone, like the ones her parents has talked about using, but she had never owned one.

“C’mom, I saved the city,” Adrien muttered despondently in French, so that only Marinette could hear. “Let me have this.” He tapped his hand lightly against the plastic window. “The squirrel is mocking me.”

“I didn’t see the squirrel, but a lot of these other toys can be bought in the shops we were just at,” Marinette suggested.

“Let’s leave before we spend all our money,” Adrien said. Marinette took his hand, and they walked back along the boardwalk.

“It’s pretty here,” Marinette commented when they were about twenty meters down. They had edged away from the shops, closer to the water.

“It’s different.” At first Marinette thought Adrien meant the seaside district in general. Obviously nothing would ever compare to the 7th Arrondissement among their group of friends, because it would always be home. Then Adrien added, “From what I remember.”

_Oh,_ Marinette realized. _The last time he had been here, it had been with his mom._ Marinette let go of his hand and put an arm around his waist. They kept walking. There were words on her lips she couldn’t bring herself to say. Versions of words Adrien had heard before, from her and others. Instead, she hugged him a little closer as the sea breeze whipped around them.

They stopped by an empty bench and sat down. Adrien stared off across the water to the islands dotted with houses among green mountains. Marinette people-watched the tourists. A lot of the teenagers and 20-somethings seemed to take fashion cues from K-pop videos, with bright colors and bold patterns and fancy sneakers.

“I had a dream recently that started out like I was inside of a K-pop video set,” Marinette said. Adrien turned toward her as she spoke. “Then Hawkmoth appeared, and my miraculous wasn’t there, and Tikki wasn’t answering. I was alone. It devolved into Hawkmoth saying some terrible things about how I’d failed and, um, the usual stuff. I woke up before things got too bad.” _That time. I woke up before things go too bad_ that _time._

They had talked about it, of course. About the nightmares and the paranoia that came after. About the flashbacks, and the alternatives they didn’t like to think too deeply about. At one point the discussions had been extensive. They had decreased in frequency as the dark circles cleared up, and waking up in cold sweat to look around the room and feel like everything was about to attack you had happened only once a week or month, even if the lesser bad dreams came a little more often. They—all of them—Alya, Nino, and Chloé too—learned to shake things off and focus on their crazy lives during the day. Then Volpina had showed up.

Marinette had had that nightmare a few days ago. Why hadn’t she bothered to tell Adrien? _Oh, yeah, Adrien had left the apartment early, and it wasn’t worth texting him about._ By the time she’d seen him later that evening, they’d both had a day’s worth of stories and school drama to share.

“On Monday I had one with my mom in it.” Adrien raked his fingers through his hair. “I don’t remember anything that happened, but I know she was there. It was nice. I’ve told you about how she just shows up occasionally.” Adrien wrung his hands together briefly, and then relaxed. “I’m okay. I can’t go avoiding every place I’ve ever been with her. It just, snuck upon me today, that’s all. You’d think it was something that would happen every time I went to the old house, but nope…”

Marinette shoved her hands in her pockets. She inched closer to him, so that they were hunched together. Marinette and Adrien sat facing the shore, watching the sun inch lower in the sky when Marinette eyes flickered across the bend. She saw a flash of white-golden hair, of another person seated. Marinette stood up abruptly in concern and Adrien followed quickly behind.

Chloé would stand out here even if she weren’t sitting next to two large plush toys still wrapped in plastic, likely just purchased, and an array of smaller ones in a canvas bag with a silhouette of Taiwan printed on it. She was completely absorbed in texting, and flinched when Marinette called out to her from a meter away.

“Oh, hey.” Chloé turned back to her phone. “Nino found Wi-Fi. I’m messaging him now.”

Chloé _would_ have international mobile service.

Adrien sat down on the bench, next to a sky-blue bunny creature whose torso was shaped like a flat pillow and covered in pink polka-dots. “Did you go one a bit of a shopping spree, Chlo?”

Chloé leaned into the giant Rilakuma plushie between them. The plastic crinkled. “They were cute.” Her thumbs kept flying across the screen. “Nino’s enjoying the wedding, by the way. Even if they won’t let him DJ and he has to wear a monkey suit.” Chloé looked towards them and Marinette would had missed it, had she not been watching with such scrutiny: how Chloé’s eyes lingered on her right leg for a fraction of a second before it twitched slightly, and the blonde turned back to her phone.

Adrien caught it too.

She was texting the only other person she knew who’d gotten a limb chewed on.

Adrien gingerly moved the blue bunny character to his other side and shifted so that only the giant bear was between them. “Chlo…”

“Adrikins.” The nickname came out somewhat flat as Chloé leaned further across the bear to rest her head by Adrien’s shoulder as she focused on Marinette. “Those burns from the ichor, from, Istanbul.”  The words were said in a rush, like Chloé was trying not to lose the nerve. “Did they heal completely? Is there scarring?”

Marinette had to think before answering. “You wouldn’t know by looking at it.” It didn’t quite answer the question, they all understood. Except it did. _Healing? Scars? Yes and no._ Tikki’s powers restored order. It left them standing, always stitched seamlessly back into place, propped up but weighed down. It wasn’t until year three of holding the miraculous that it started bothering Marinette. How she still had a toughened patch of skin on her elbow from when it had hit concrete falling off her bike when she was twelve, but a dart passing clean through her shoulder or the cracked rib from a direct hit of a jacked-up tennis ball could feel like nothing in an hour. All that was left was the vague memory of having been in serious pain, and the disorientation that came with being Perfectly Fine.

The pair of childhood friends before her were a testament to how you didn’t need magic and superhero-ing for that kind of answer. How Perfectly Fine meant memories that bled like half-developed film and colored everything differently, sometimes. Marinette counted herself incredibly blessed. She had always been lucky. She just didn’t know by how much until she started growing up a little.

There were some points in her life Marinette knew only existed because she had accepted the miraculous when she was fourteen. The kwami were protectors and friends, but there was only so much they could have warned her about. She had come to terms with her duty a long time ago, even as everything it entailed evolved. It was what it was.

Marinette slid into the empty space on Adrien’s left. Without thinking about it, she took Adrien’s hand. He passed the bunny-pillow to her. Marinette could feel how soft it was, even through the plastic. Oh, the capabilities of polyester-rayon blends. Its quirky appearance was growing on her.

The sun sank closer to the mountains across the bay.

Chloé moved first, gathering everything but the 2 largest stuffed animals. “We could, like, potentially stay for another hour and make it back to Paris at a decent time.”

Adrien shook his head just as Marinette said, “No, let’s go home.”


	20. The Truth About Demons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Present: Another shard down.  
> Past: Chloé's origin story.

Nino stopped by the apartment when Marinette was out, so that it was just him and Adrien in the living room. It was two days after the three of them had returned from Taipei, but only a couple hours since Nino had gotten back from the wedding. Nino shut the door behind him, and Duusu emerged from inside Nino’s bag to pester Plagg. They spent the next few minutes going through Nino’s phone to look at pictures from the ceremony and reception.

“Oh, yeah.” Adrien grabbed the Celeste plush doll sitting on the couch and tossed it to Nino. “Got you a souvenir.”

“Thanks dude,” Nino said. He looked the doll in its thread eyes as he rolled it around in his hands. “I heard a lot happened while I was gone.”

Adrien shrugged. “We made it out okay.”

“I still feel bad that…”

“You can’t think that way,” Adrien said, even though he knew if he were in the same position, he wouldn’t be able to heed his own advice. Nino raised an eyebrow like he knew it too.

“It hardly happens with any of the others, but I remember the pain from the bites because they were the worst. Half like all your nerves are on fire. Half like that sensation when your entire foot is numb, and things you should feel you just can’t, and your head is splitting in two trying to process it all.” Nino sat down on the sofa and picked up a small plush of a jellyfish from the pile scattered on the couch. “This one is super cool.”

“You can have it if you want.” Adrien’s words came out rushed. Sharp around the edges, like he was using them to fill up space. “Chlo dumped most of the ones she bought in Taiwan here. She gave the clear that whoever wants can take.”

“Chloé went a little overboard, I think,” Nino said. “But good for her.” There was a glint in Nino’s eyes, one that was more than the lenses glare on his glasses. The gears in his mind clicked into place in an instant, and Adrien let the subject drop. It was easy, almost too easy, to let the weight of all they don’t say get pulled under by gravity. _It’s fine,_ Adrien thought. _He’ll probably talk through it with Alya. Probably already has with Chloé._ Nino seemed relieved and grateful for Adrien’s silence. “Can I take the squirtle one too? My little brother would like it,” Nino added.

“Go for it.”

The two smaller stuffed toys went into Nino’s bag. He held onto the Celeste plushie as he shifted some of the plush toys around to sit on the couch. “I was hoping our trip to the Guardians realm would do a little more,” Nino admitted. “Or, at least I thought exactly that when parts of my arm were missing.”

Plagg answered, zipping over from across the room before Adrien could speak. “Did you think you would gain some new move tied to an absurdly named power because of the foray? I’m afraid it doesn’t work that way.” The cat kwami scoffed. “You get two party tricks, or, in Ladybug’s case, three. Work with it.”

Nino addressed the kwami. “So dude, did we grow stronger at all?”

“You know a lot now, don’t you?” Duusu huffed. “Don’t you feel stronger? Faster? In possession of more stamina?

“So I got a stat boost?” Adrien asked, incredulous.

“We all just got secret stat boosts we don’t know about?” Nino added.

Duusu shot them a sour look. “It is ridiculous that you simplify your experience into—“

“Yes, you got a stat boost,” Plagg interjected.

\--

 

Finals were stressful for everyone but, naturally, some fared better than others. To be honest, Marinette breezed through the projects and presentations because she “was completely neurotic about it,” as Willa put it, teasingly. They finished the group project by the skin of their teeth, with Marinette resorting to making coffee runs and bringing snacks. Juan developed a certain co-dependence on the Earl Grey Tea flavored madeleines.

When Marinette brought them in the day of the group presentation, Juan sank to his knees and gave a comical bow. “Girl, you are a space princess! Those cookies have saved my life!”

Marinette took a small step back as she dropped the plastic bag of cookies into his outstretched hands. “Space princess is not something I thought anyone would ever call me.” She passed two more packages to Willa and Valerie. “I’ll pass the compliments to my parents.”

“We can do it, everyone,” Willa said, more to herself.

On the day of the presentations, it was cool to see the other groups’ semester projects. Marinette was particularly taken away by an orange gown made by Louis, a student in his thirties. His group’s project had a costume-couture element to it, with broached vests, long waistcoats, and fitted trousers to go with sweeping gowns.

Willa laughed at her surprise. “There is no way you completely missed the growing layers and layers of orange tulle in one corner, is there?” Willa adjusted her second look on the dress form.

“There might have been a way,” Marinette muttered weakly. In the studio, she had had a bit of tunnel vison for the past few weeks, and hadn’t paid attention to anything the other groups were doing.

The presentations went fine. What threw Marinette for a loop was what happened after.

They decorated their booth like a small boutique and described their “looks” to the five instructors who came one at a time. The range of comments and critiques made Marinette constantly jittery and sometimes flush.

“Ms. Dupain-Cheng, you are the one with the Balmain internship over the summer, no?” Mister Martin, an instructor she had never seen before, asked, as if a light bulb had gone off in his head. Marinette had heard he taught the third and fourth year modules.

“Uh, um, I did have an internship there.” Marinette swallowed. Her group-mates’ ears perked up at the mention. Willa shot her a look like she wanted an explanation, but later, and went back to her presentation.

They passed with flying colors, and went out for drinks later that Friday to celebrate. When the topic came up, Marinette explained that getting the internship meant sending a lot of emails, and the work itself was more hours than school.

Juan let out a long whistle after another sip of beer. “No wonder school was easy for you.”

Marinette eyes narrowed. “It’s not easy for me.” She’d gotten enough of the Asian-overachiever stereotype in secondary school.

“She works hard,” Willa said.

“I think watching you have your shit together was half the reason I got anything done,” Valerie said with a dark chuckle.

Marinette was taken aback. At first because that statement was probably the nicest thing Valerie had ever said to her. Then, because of what the Brit said next.

“Not that it does me much good. I might not even finish out the course.”

Marinette glass slipped out of her hand. She cursed under her breath as the hard cider spilled onto the bar and her skirt. Everyone else managed to avoid it. “How do you mean?” Marinette asked as she helped the bartender mop up the mess she made. Luckily, the drink had been half finished.

“Oh, my parents already paid for the next semester, so I’m coming back, but I don’t know. I’m still thinking things over.” Valerie sipped her drink.

The three of them didn’t quite know what to say. Marinette knew _la Syndicate_ was an incredibly specialized education, and certainly not for everyone. However, it was one of the best fashion schools in the world and people didn’t just give it up, did they?

“Dear lord,” Valerie said in a sing-song voice fueled by the alcohol. “I’m just mulling over possibilities. Don’t worry about it. We are supposed to be celebrating now! C’mon, finals are over!”

The first semester of “university” and finals were over for Marinette. They had been over for Alya, Adrien, and everyone else she knew attending ENS three days ago. Which meant Adrien was playing a lot of videogames, and Alya had lounged on their couch yesterday watching YouTube videos in between working on posts for the blog. Chloé, who was attending a different school, was on a different schedule.

Marinette “celebrated” the end of the first semester by working at her parents’ bakery the next day. Chloé waltzed in around 11AM, her hair styled in long, flowing waves, like she had just come from the salon. She looked surprised to see Marinette there.

“Oh, you must have finished finals,” Chloé said, shooting her a jealous look.

“Yesterday. What can I get you?”

“One strawberry mochi and one peach flavored.” Chloé paused as she got out her wallet. “And, you know what? Café au lait. I was just going to make a quick run, but I’ll stay here. Besides, I have the Wi-Fi password saved on my phone.”

“You mean the one to my house or for the bakery floor?” Marinette asked as she ran the register.

“They one to your house is so much faster.” Chloé accepted her purchase and planted herself at one of the tables by the window. She didn’t so much as speak to Marinette for a good 30 minutes as she got out her laptop and did her work. When there was a break in the rush of customers, Marinette went over to Chloé’s table. The mochi was gone, so she guessed they had discreetly found their way to Raafa.

Marinette had to ask. “How are finals?”

“It’s, so… ugh. I have twenty-three hours to finish this project, and it looks like I’ll be pulling most of the weight, and everything is impossible. At least with the essay I’ll fail of my own accord.” Chloé sighed. “I finished the exams yesterday, at least.”

“You can get it done,” Marinette said breezily.

“Maybe I’ll just drop out.”

Marinette sat down at the table, which caused Chloé to look up from her laptop. “I thought you finally decided to prove your father wrong. To prove what everyone’s told you growing up wrong. Where is that drive now?” Marinette let out a long breath. “Remember when we were really young? Like first grade. I remember you aced the spelling bee and did really well in math. You were a really bright kid.”

She had been, in those earliest years when the world had seemed like it was meant to bend to her will. Chloé had been unstoppable. Then, her mother had left and her father got wrapped up in his career. He stopped responding to her good marks, and he had skipped out on two of her ballet recitals. But he always said she looked pretty, like a China doll. He had bought as many pretty things as she asked for, regardless of the cost. By the time she was eleven, there was only one thing she was paying attention to. The one thing her father noticed, that he always complimented.

“It was a joke, Marinette. Just a joke.” Chloé looked at her quizzically. “What’s up?”

“Valerie, one of the members of the group project I did talked about dropping out seriously,” Marinette said just as a customer came in. “Hold on.” She got up to go behind the counter.

She had mentioned it off-handedly to Alya and to Adrien yesterday, among the many other things they had talked about, but only as a side note to explain how she had stained her clothes.

“It’s her life and her decision,” Marinette said to Chloé about twenty minutes later, when there was another break in customers. She was repeating what she had mentioned to the others yesterday. “It just surprised me so much I ended up spilling my drink.”

“I didn’t think you particularly liked this girl,” Chloé pointed out.

“I mean, she’s not my friend, like Willa is, but she’s a classmate. I can’t imagine wanting to leave the program…”

“Not everyone is you.” Chloé twirled a blonde curl around her finger. “Why does it bother you so much?”

“I don’t know, really. Is it bothering me that much?” Marinette tapped her fingers on the table. “Maybe I can’t help but think I could have done something to change her attitude? To prevent it from happening? That I still can?”

Chloé regarded her carefully. “You have a bit of a god-complex, you know?”

“What’s that mean?”

“Saint Marinette, always wanting to steer everyone to her course. Hell bent on helping.” Chloé patted her hand. “Don’t get me wrong, it has its benefits. But you can’t fix everything, and maybe there is nothing to fix. You’re making a lot of assumptions based on yourself, and, what, one sentence of a conversation?”

“I never thought of it that way,” Marinette said meekly.

“Of course you didn’t,” Chloé said. “You need to relax, sometimes.” She got up and followed Marinette to the register. “Oh, and I would like two hot chocolates.”

Relaxing for a week before the start of spring semester meant working at the bakery and doing patrols. She got to eat lunch and dinner with her parents. At their insistence, Marinette also took a day trip to the Alps to ski with her friends. (“You should go do something exciting, for once,” Tom had said. If only they knew.) Marinette had gone skiing before, but not enough. The one day on the slopes was more proof that superpowers didn’t always translate to dexterity out of costume. Plagg also got lost in the cheese fondue at one point.

After the short break, the spring semester picked up quickly. Marinette spent as much time in the atelier as usual. On the first Friday of classes, while listening to the instructor talk about patternmaking, her phone buzzed.

 

**[Master Fu @ 14h24]**

**Shard, activating soon. Come to Labyrinth entrance NOW!!!**

 

It was sent to the group text. _Activating soon? Like Master Fu was predicting it? What?_ Marinette filed her questions about it for later. She found herself taking the route she hadn’t used since _lycée._ Tossing out a half-baked excuse, she ran out of class.

\--

 

Naturally it activated during the biggest celebration of the year. The splendid procession of Timket had the streets packed. Some were in western clothes, others in traditional robes that ranged from white cotton to ornately decorated silk, to handwoven swatches of patterned fabric. There was chanting and singing and drum beats that moved the population to one rhythm. A red carpet was rolled out for the procession, which was unlike any other parade in the world. And they weren’t going to be able to watch any of it. Perhaps after they finished dealing with the akuma, which Ladybug wanted to do as quickly and as discretely as possible. Disturbing their magnificent three-day long annual holiday seemed wrong. At least in Taipei they had dealt with the akuma well before the celebrations had started. And they’d never interrupted a holiday anywhere else. Unfortunately, there wasn’t a pause-and-come-back-later option.

Addis Ababa was a place in development. Ladybug guessed that if she returned in five, then ten years, the skyline for the capital would have changed significantly both times. Ladybug knew the complexities behind the problems the countries faced could be aptly summarized with Western-Imperialism-sucked-for-anyone-who-wasn’t-the-West and history-proves-humanity-was-always-awful. Alya’s history rants were always opinionated and extremely educational.

However, walking next to the track toward Meskel where the Labyrinth had spat them out, Ladybug came to appreciate the wide space. All the other cities she had been to (including ones she had traveled to as Marinette) were packed. Building stacked on top of building and clusters of winding roads were what she associated with most cities. In contrast, Addis Ababa had a lot of flat, open ground, even within the city center, where blue and white cars drove past street signs marked with Ge’ez, one of the oldest alphabets still currently used in the world.

It was the third day of the festival, and most people were celebrating in Jan Meda. The track that ended in the La Gare station was ignored in favor of places that were not abandoned, which was all the more convenient for them.

“It may be a good thing we came during Timket,” Honeybee said as they approached the station following Ladybug’s lead. “Four foreigners like us would attract attention anyway. But people do come from all over to see the procession, so we may not stick out as much today.”

“Only if we find the shard in time,” Ladybug said.

The inside of the station looked worse than the outside, which was covered in fading yellow paint and an orange-brown roof. The interior was like a place used for storage when the owners had no intention to return. They should have expected as much given how overgrown with grass the tracks were outside. There was a rusted-away old car covered in a tarp, graffiti in a script none of them could read on the walls, and a lot of spider webs. There was also the shard, shining like a beacon in the middle of some empty space.

Before any of them could react, the shard levitated.

Every other time they had to deal with a piece of Volpina’s necklace, the resulting akuma had already formed. Watching one form, tendrils of shadows seeming to come out of nowhere, spinning and shifting like excited electrons, was hypnotic. Everyone stood frozen as the sphere of shadow elongated and expanded, gathering more and more energy. A head formed, which grew a torso and four legs, and finally a tail which moved back and forth like a flame. When it was done forming, the fox’s head nearly brushed the ceiling of the first floor of the station.

“Great, another large one,” Celeste muttered.

Ladybug crouched down and held her head in her hands after a sharp intake of breath. She shut her eyes so that the glowing redness was no longer obvious. She was going to add raging, magic-induced migraine to the list of things she never wanted to experience again. “I can’t… I shouldn’t have watched the akuma form while… channeling Tikki… I can’t detect where the shard is… yet.” Speaking each word had felt like choking.

The akuma forming meant crossover between two planes of existence. It made sense in theory, but to be in the presence of it happening was like being in the center of a natural disaster. Surreal and unimaginable. All the miraculous holders felt it.

Celeste was the first to recover from the shock. He stepped forward and swung his staff out behind him, sending the other three miraculous users tumbling backwards, and spinning a full circle in the process. He reset his staff so that he was gripping it in the middle, left hand over right, but quickly changed his left hand to counteract the downward swipe of a paw. The akuma switched to the other front paw, which Celeste blocked by moving his staff horizontally, the point stabbing the appendage. The fox yowled, and move to bite.

“Lucky Charm,” Ladybug said through gritted teeth, still on the ground, as Celeste said “Wind Tunnel.”

The miniature cyclone muzzled the creature as Ladybug looked despairingly at the small glass bottle that had landed in her hands. It was a very familiar, refilled bottle. Ladybug felt an entirely different kind of headache coming on.

“Chat, you know that thing I did in Budapest that you told me to never do again?” Ladybug stood carefully, taking a few steps to the left as the akuma seemed to ignore them, preoccupied as it was with its new muzzle. “I remind you I made no promises.” _Chlo may be on to something about that god-complex. Their kwami notwithstanding._

“Why?” Chat Noir dodged as the akuma flopped over on its side, and tried to get the force of wind surrounding its snout off by pressing it to the floor, which only made a lot of dust and sand rise up around them. Celeste could move while maintaining Wind Tunnel, unlike Bee’s restriction while using Honeycomb, but he couldn’t retain it for very long.

“The shard. It’s in,” Ladybug shouted. “The roof of the akuma’s mouth.”

The four of them scrambled around, trying to avoid the akuma’s tail and limbs as it thrashed around wildly.

“I already used Wind Tunnel,” Celeste yelled. “It can’t protect you this time!”

Chat Noir looked like he was about to say something in protest to the entire idea in general, but Honeybee spoke first.

“You know what!?” She moved to be next to Ladybug. “Don’t hog all the perfume for yourself!” She snatched up the bottle. “I’m getting _revenge_.” Honeybee put the bottle on the floor and shattered it with her whip. She had pushed Ladybug away. Most of the scented water had splashed onto the floor among the broken glass. Ladybug guessed a good amount had landed on Bee’s whip, as well as her foot and lower calf. Honeybee remained planted, not moving from the bottle, waiting.

It took one second, tops.

The akuma’s head jerked in Honeybee’s direction. Wind Tunnel died down in strength and the fox was baring its teeth and snarling again. It was unclear to Ladybug whether Blue had released his superpower or if it had snapped like a taunt string from the akuma’s own strength. She didn’t have time to consider it as she felt Chat Noir grab her shoulders and pull her roughly out of the way as the akuma shot forward, its mouth opened wide.

“Honeycomb!” Bee shouted as the fox closed around her. In a burst of light, the akuma was stuck, Bright yellow netting formed a solid mesh that filled the inside of the akuma’s mouth like a mold reinforced by four thick beams stuck to the ground. Surrounding the beams and the mold were more Honeycombs packed like clay. It was as if the shadow fox had gotten its head trapped in a modern art piece resembling a strange rock formation. Honeybee was trapped in the center of that mess, in close proximity to the akuma’s teeth. The rest of them could see her through the large gaps in the Honeycomb. She was peering up at something above her head. “This shard here? It’s still lodged in pretty deeply. How do I…”

Everyone inched closer to the akuma and Honeybee. The shard glinted against the surrounding golden light.

“Oh, and it may be a good time to mention that I can’t move until the akuma’s been purified,” Honeybee added lightly.

 Chat Noir moved to the fox’s left side to climb up and through a gap in the Honeycomb structure. “Cataclysm!” He shot his hand upward and the dark orb of energy crackled as the shard became more exposed. Ladybug stepped closer, on the fox’s right side, and wove her arm and fingers through, until she could pluck the shard out with her fingers.

“De-evilize,” Ladybug said as she placed the shard into her yo-yo. As the akuma dissolved around them she surveyed the building until she stared at the broken glass by Honeybee’s feet. “Um…”

“Here, I got it.” Celeste waved his staff and gathered the prices together mid-air.

“Oops, sorry,” Honeybee said. “Guess I didn’t think things through.”

“It’s fine, this should work.” Ladybug cupped her palms together as the shards were all lowered into her hands. “Miraculous Ladybug,” she said without throwing anything up. A swarm of ladybugs burst from her hands.

Once the train station had been returned to its usual state of abandonment, Ladybug threw her arms around Honeybee. “Don’t worry, that was fantastic!” Ladybug gushed. Chat and Celeste joined their hug.

Stimulus from the rest of the world steadily filtered back in. They could hear the chanting and the cheers and the music nearby. Whatever festivities were happening, they couldn’t stay. Not when they’d all dropped what they were doing to get here.

“Let’s just say you inspired me to be daring,” Honeybee replied with a wide grin before squirming away. “Now what time is it? I have to get back to Paris!” They all did.

 --

 

**One and a Half Years Ago**

 

“Really?! YOU were given a miraculous?” Ladybug’s voice didn’t crack, but there was a hoarseness there. The skepticism was laid out like thorns, ready to draw blood.

“I’m sure Master Fu has his reasons,” Chat offered. The three of them, Chat Noir, Ladybug, and the newest miraculous user, who had de-transformed into Chloé Bourgeois a moment ago, were standing on a rooftop at night.

“They better be spectacular reasons.” Ladybug muttered.

“I haven’t really gotten used to my powers yet, but I promise I’ll try really hard, and maybe I’m not what you expected.” Chloé sputtered nervously and ran her hands through her hair. “Oh, you guys must have read about me in the papers, right? The mayor’s daughter, with a mess of a life? I didn’t think anyone outside my school would care, even if they saw it. I… I’m sorry.”

Chat looked at Ladybug and mouthed “Do something.”

“No, it’s not tha—” Ladybug began, but Chloé, Honeybee, snapped first.

“It’s okay, you don’t have to force yourself to be nice to me.”

“I…” Ladybug was reminded of how people made their own enemies. Once, when she had let her words get ahead of her, a girl her age had been humiliated. She had gone overboard, regardless of whether or not Lila had deserved it.

 “You shouldn’t continue assuming the world thinks so badly of you.” Ladybug spoke softly, but firmly. “To be perfectly honest, most of the world does not think of you at all. Okay, that came out wrong. I didn’t mean… It’s a good thing, really…”

Chloé’s face was growing wearier as Ladybug continued talking, so Ladybug stopped. She moved to plant herself in front of Chloé and de-transformed.

“Marinette?!” Chloé was slack-jawed.

“You can understand why I was a little doubtful.” Marinette tried to give a reassuring smile. The silence from Chloé lasted about half a minute.

“You’re Ladybug?!” Chloé shrieked once she finally found her voice. “I’ve cosplayed you for fun. What.”

She spun around to look at Chat.

“Please tell me you don’t go to my school as well. It would be _so_ embarrassing,” Chloé lamented.

Chat scratched his ears. “It would be embarrassing to be a superhero?”

“No, that’s the cool part.” Chloé’s shoulders slumped as she gave a long sigh. “To have Ladybug and Chat Noir know about my tarnished reputation beforehand is, well, it sucks. Don’t give me that look, Marinette. I get why you reacted the way you did. I’m happy you told me your identity, though. Chat Noir, I don’t know if you know me in real life too, but I promise both of you, I can really help. Whatever you’ve read about me in the press, let me prove I can do this.”

“It’s okay Chlo.”

Chloé’s eyes widened, and Marinette thought the newest miraculous holder had it about figured out because there were only a handful of people in the world who called her ‘Chlo.’ There was no time to confirm if she’d actually figured it out first, because Chat Noir de-transformed just as she shouted.

“ADRIEN?! It was you two? Was it always you two? Oh gosh, I would rather it be two strangers.”

“Quiet!” Marinette hissed. “These are still secret identities, you know. What if someone heard you? What if we weren’t so high up? You would have totally blown our cover.”

“Isn’t that why you led me up here in the first place?” Chloé crossed her arms, but spoke more quietly.

Marinette relaxed. They were on the roof of a huge department store building, in a district where all the surrounding buildings were offices during the day, and completely vacant at night. Not anywhere near where they usually patrolled. “Why would you rather it not be us?”

Chloé shrugged and pouted. “This is my chance to prove myself. To do something better. Now, all you’ll see is the mistakes I’ve made.”

“What do you take me for? You changed. Accept it.” Marinette scoffed. “Sure, I know how awful you can be, but as a miraculous holder, you can show us how great you can be.”

Chloé uncrowded her arms and stood up straighter. “So that’s it? I’m a part of the team?”

“Of course you’re a part of the team,” Chat Noir said.

In Chloé’s hesitation, Marinette realized of how scared she must have been and, also, how much the tabloids and repercussions of her fallout bothered her. Marinette hadn’t thought it was an issue anymore, but here it was haunting her and feeding into her worst fears. “The miraculous picks the user,” Marinette said. “Clearly, the kwami thought you were worthy. Who am I to argue with a god?”

“It’s good to have you on the team.” Adrien smiled before turning towards Marinette. “I’m interested in having words with you, Princess. It took you years to reveal your identity to me, and a couple of minutes with Celeste, but you were just about ready to rip your mask off for Chlo. What gives? A cat should be insulted.”

Marinette sighed and put one hand on her hip. “I’ve had practice. After telling you the rest has been old hat.”

Chloé’s eyebrows furrowed. “You guys didn’t know each other’s secret identities at first?”

“Oh no,” Adrien said. “That would have been too easy.”

“We found out only after _lycée_ started.”

“It’s been you two all along.” Chloé breathed. “I’m going to need some time to process it.”

“You think _you_ are going to need time?” Marinette challenged.

Chloé ignored the doubt. “Do I get to meet Celeste eventually? Is he our age? Does he go to our school too?”

“You should probably find out from him.” Adrien said.

“Right now I am very curious about how well you can use that whip.” Marinette took out a cookie from the pouch she always carried with her, and the red kwami, who had been hovering behind Marinette, leapt forward. “Can you glow on command, or is it only when you use your powers?” Marinette asked after introductions were made.

\--

 

Adrien texted Nino when he got home from patrol that night

 

**[Adrien Agreste @ 01h39]**

**We met up with the new miraculous holder—Honeybee.**

Nino, who still hasn’t gone to sleep, calls him instead of texting back.

“Dude? What? I’m not the new kid anymore? Well, what’s this one like? Any idea of their identity?”

Adrien didn’t want to lie. It was perhaps the pause, the silence, that gave it away. “We know who she is,” Adrien admitted, because he didn’t think he could kept the fact of knowing a secret. “She knows who we are.”

Nino whistled. “Just like that?”

“She told us immediately, no holding back, out of excitement,” Adrien explained. “We just went with the flow.”

Nino made some clicking noise with the back of his tongue. “So considering your budding career, she’s someone both of you know in real life, and she’s someone you can trust. Yeah, would have to be both.”

“You don’t have to tell her if you don’t want to, Nino. It’s your identity. The three of us know each other’s—it may be convenient for you to have that info.”

“I’m fine with telling whoever it is,” Nino blurted out. “Keeping a secret identity is exhausting, and I hate having it loom over my head. I’ve got nothing to lose, really, because the two of you trust her.”

Adrien blinked. He hadn’t expected it to be so easy. “Alright then.”

 

**[Adrien Agreste @ 02h21]**

**Hey Chlo. You’re going to meet Celeste at patrol/training tomorrow night (technically today). He’s okay with revealing his identity.**

**[Chloé Bourgeois @ 07h26]**

**10pm, then. Same place as yesterday.**

 

Chat Noir and Ladybug escorted Celeste to the tall, secluded rooftop. When they got there, Honeybee was already waiting. She sat with her legs crossed and, upon their arrival, waved enthusiastically as she stood up.

“I’m so excited,” Chat stage-whispered to Ladybug once everyone was huddled together. “For once we get to just watch an identity reveal. Leave us out of the drama.”

Honeybee tilted her head. “From the way they’re acting, I’m guessing I might know you in real life?”

“We’ll just have to find out,” Celeste responded. “Ready? 3, 2, 1.”

Celeste and Honeybee de-transformed simultaneously. They both blinked a couple of times after the light had faded.

“Nino?” Chloé squinted at him.

“Chloé.” Nino adjusted his baseball cap. “You got a miraculous? Congrats, girl.”

Chloé didn’t move for a few seconds, but Raafa flew up to her shoulder and whispered something into her ear. Chat Noir had a Cheshire-cat grin, and Ladybug just smiled, more bemused at Chat’s enthusiasm. Chloé looked between the trio. “Hey, does Alya know about the three of you?”

“Yeah,” Nino answered.

“What about anyone else?” Raafa continued buzzing around Chloé’s head while Duusu yawned. “Your parents? Siblings?”

“Nope,” Ladybug answered, although the siblings bit only applied to Nino. “It’s only us five in the world that know. Plus Master Fu, so six.”

“Speaking of, you show up and run around Paris at night two days ago, get the entire city riled up.” Nino retrieved a slightly-crushed flower head from his pocket and fed it to Duusu. “How’d you get the miraculous in the first place?”

Honeybee had recounted the same story to Ladybug and Chat Noir the previous night, as they were heading back. “You know Master Fu, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Three days ago, I was walking on the street shopping when I saw an old man doing tai-chi in the park,” Chloé recalled. “He had headphones in and was totally cool. There was this group of kids around my age trying to take a video of it, calling it super weird. They were making fun of him, being very rude, and frankly, racist. I told them to stop. Something about the cameras did not sit right with me. We got into an argument, and one of them recognized me from the papers and started recording me too. Then the man, who was Master Fu, came over and shut them down. He made them delete the video and told them off. The kids left, and Master Fu told me he was just about finished. We sat down on a bench and talked. He was actually holding one of the papers where my picture was on page 9. We talked about a bunch of stuff, and he must have slipped the hairpin in my bag. I found it when I got home, attached to a note. Master Fu went back to doing tai-chi after I left. He’d lied, and hadn’t been done with his set.

“I tried on the hairpin, and that’s when Raafa appeared. Oh, once I figured out what it was I was so excited! I couldn’t wait to see what I could do. I couldn’t wait to help. So I went for a patrol of my own at the time you three always left. I must have been at it for about an hour. I stopped someone from getting mugged. I was looking for one of you three. As you know, Ladybug and Chat Noir found me first.”

Chat Noir’s shoulders slumped. “I was expecting something a little bit more dramatic. Maybe not earth shaking but, that’s it?”

Nino and Chloé both looked at the confused. They weren’t sure why it would matter. Then Nino burst out laughing.

“Aw, nah,” he said. “It’s only you two who went and got your lives in a convoluted mess over your IDs. I wouldn’t care so much who it was, as long as we can work well together.”

“I just wanted to be able to brag about my pretty new costume,” Chloé half-joked. Nino high-fived her.

Ladybug inched closer to Chat. “Don’t look so glum, Kitty. Alya probably wants to get some form of a scoop. She’ll embellish things.”

“Oh, in her case, I want to avoid drama.” Chat Noir’s cat ears twitched.

“So, I heard you can make things glow with your power-move?” Nino transformed back into Celeste.

“And you can fly.” Chloé fed Raafa food from her pocket.

\--

 

The next day during lunch, Alya pulled Marinette aside and asked, “You’ve read my piece about the new user. Do you know who it happens to be?”

“I do. All the users do.”

“I’m not asking you who it is,” Alya clarified. “I just want to know if it is someone we know or not, like another student at this school or a friend. I’ll be careful what I write on the blog this time. I’ll try to protect them while staying inquisitively in-character.”

“Isn’t that what you should always be doing?” Marinette half-regretted her words when the hurt showed on Alya’s face. She bit her lip and looped her arm into Alya’s as they walked to the cafeteria for lunch. It was packed, because it was close to exams, and many student who usually left campus chose to stay and use the valuable time to study.

A week passed, and Alya kept her speculations on the blog as high as they would usually be, without the accusations of their going to a certain school or living in a certain area. “There are a lot of blonde girls running around. Also, my earlier point about magic and warping appearances.” She abstractly mused one day when they were studying in the school library. Alya was sitting at a table with Marinette, Adrien, and Nino. She spoke in a hushed whisper as she twirled her pencil in her hand. “I do wonder who she is, I mean, I want to go all investigative reporter, but I don’t know.”

They were in the back corner of the library, and weren’t likely to be overheard, but Marinette stiffened as she realized Chloé was sitting at the table behind them. She was alone, and no one else was in earshot. Chloé was pouring over a textbook while filing her nails and wearing studded yellow earbuds. Maybe the earbuds were why Alya thought the comment was harmless.

Chloé casually turned around, still filing her nails. A year ago Marinette would have expected some mean-spirited comment about Alya’s abilities. Now, Chloé casually scanned the room to check that they were far enough away from everyone else in the library, and said “I’m Honeybee” while still filing her nails.

Alya dropped her pencil. She glanced around with an eyebrow raised at the rest of the group, who were stunned into silence. When Alya caught her eye, Marinette nodded once, firmly. “She’s is,” Marinette whispered.

Alya turned around in her chair towards Chloé. “You?”

“One of four right in front of you,” Chloé said lightly as she took out an earbud.

“You earned yourself a miraculous?!” Alya hissed.

“I’m earning it right now,” Chloé responded icily.

Chloé looked like she had something more to say about it, but looked past them and quickly turned around, putting the earbud back in. The rest of them followed her gaze and hushed up as a librarian walked by. They tried to study in silence, and the bell rang soon enough. Alya had words for Marinette once they were in the hallway. Chloé walked off instead of interrupting.

“Do you think she deserves it? I’m kind of just a third party here, but she’s petty and has no idea what she’s doing,” Alya pointed out. “You’re going to have to trust her with your life. Do you think you can?”

“I don’t disagree that she can be, well, Chloé. But she’s gotten better, you know she has,” Marinette said.

They continued their discussion once classes were over and they were headed home. “None of us had any idea what we were doing when we started,” Marinette said. “I didn’t think I was worth the miraculous when I first got it, you know. Tikki explained that users will earn the miraculous, instead of automatically mastering it. We grow into our miraculouses. I think she’ll do okay, as long as she puts in the effort. I know she’s taking this seriously, so give her a chance, okay?”

Adrien appeared behind Chloé, who was eavesdropping behind a pillar. “Chlo, do you still need to talk to Marinette? I’m about to steal her away from Alya, so you could get a word in if you want.”

Chloé looked up at Adrien, and glanced at the girls before meeting his eyes again. “No, it’s fine. I’ve heard everything I’ve needed to.” She kissed both his cheeks. “You can count on me. I have to get to a hair appointment now, but I’ll see you tonight at patrol. Bye, Adrikins.”

She swept towards Marinette and Alya, who jumped, and said goodbye to them too. First she kissed both cheeks of a disgruntled looking Alya before doing the same to Marinette. Chloé whispered something into Marinette’s ear before dashing off. Sabrina was waiting for her by the curb, along with the car.

\--

 

That night, the four miraculous users met for patrol, which doubled as training. So far, Honeybee had unleashed her move, Honeycomb, successfully through sheer luck. However, she had never done so in battle with an akuma. There was also the matter of familiarizing herself with her whip, which was less intuitive than Celeste’s staff. She was having trouble with the wrist and arm movements needed to use it efficiently.

“Ouch.” Honeybee flinched when she whipped herself in the arm again while attempting another maneuver. The other three couldn’t help laughing a bit.

Honeybee huffed in frustration. “I can’t patrol until I’ve got it down. I don’t want to. Did you struggle this much with your yo-yo?” She asked Ladybug.

Ladybug couldn’t remember. There had been that initial hesitation, sure, but it had been outmatched by the need to save Alya. “There’s a steep learning curve,” Ladybug said. “But once you get it, you’re good. Can you change the length of your whip, like I can with my yo-yo and Chat can with his baton?”

“It’s a willpower thing,” Chat explained. “The magic connects to your mind and spirit.”

Honeybee tried. Her right arm swung out in a half-arc, and whatever black, magical material the whip was made of shot forward, until it nearly touched the chimney of a building on the next block. Honeybee dropped her whip.

“Eek,” she shrieked as she scrambled to pick it up. “It’s not very useable. The balance was off, and it got really heavy.”

As her hand clasped back around the handle, the whip shortened. “It won’t go any smaller.” Honeybee stood up and held the whip at its standard 2-meter length in her hand. She wrapped it around her left wrist like a guard or brace. “Wearing it is no problem, but using it still is.”

“You’ve heard of the word practice, right?” Everyone turned to the sound of Alya’s voice. She had somehow managed to climb onto the roof of the adjoining building, which was slightly lower than the building they were standing on. She snapped a picture with her phone. “This one is not for the blog, just for my enjoyment,” she clarified.

“How did you get up there?” Ladybug asked as Celeste escorted Alya up and onto the building the rest of them were standing on. Marinette had long-ago learned that ‘how did you find us’ was a stupid question to ask in Alya’s case. Alya had treated her blog like a job long before she had gotten enough traffic to make money from it. (Alya didn’t particularly care if it did or not. It was a labor of love.) Ladybug knew vaguely of fan forums that tracked sightings of the heroes, which Alya utilized, along with a network of fans that reported to her directly out of good will and common interest. Alya always found them. Ladybug had a suspicion that Alya had simply asked Celeste, in this case. They might as well set up a chatroom and include her in their plans. Ladybug thought Alya deserved to know, and it would be easier to have her safe, under their protection.

“There’s a youth hostel two buildings over. I rang the doorbell, had them let me in, explained that I lived in the building but had forgotten my key, not that I was a guest, and went up to the roof from there. It’s only a small jump in between them.”

Ladybug declined to mention how dangerous it was. They had had this argument before. Alya knew the danger, and did all those things anyway.

“Why are you here?” Honeybee asked with her arms crossed. With the whip coiled around her wrist and tucked into her arm, it looked like chunky jewelry instead of a magical weapon. The same way Ladybug’s yo-yo and Chat’s baton resembled toys, and Nino’s staff could pass for a theatre prop.

“I’ve never seen you guys train before,” Alya said cheerfully.

Honeybee bristled. “Wanted to catch my screw-up on camera?”

Ladybug, Chat Noir and Celeste shifted closer to each other, in between the two having a very spirited discussion, as Alya responded. “Girl, even if I did, it would only show how much you improved later on. Like I said: practice. No one starts spectacular at something. But you’ve never had to work hard before, right? So what do you know about it?”

“Do something,” Chat mouthed to Ladybug and Celeste anxiously.

“I’ve never had to work hard?” Honeybee sounded more angry than hurt. It was as if she’d forgotten about her costume and her superpowers. Alya, on the other hand, didn’t need magic to seem intimidating.

“You’ve cruised by on Daddy’s money and connections your whole life,” Alya said. “Why are you looking so upset over some minor setbacks, when all you need to do is stop complaining and practice more?”

Celeste spoke. “I think maybe y’all need to cool it a bit before this building gets set on fire.”

“Alya, don’t you think you’re being a little harsh?” Chat asked.

“It’s unnecessary,” Ladybug agreed as she watched Honeybee seem to shrink in her costume.

Alya stiffened and pushed her shoulders back. “Everyone needs some tough love sometimes,” she said, but more softly.

Honeybee was wearing a mask, but Chloé had never looked quite so vulnerable. “I get it. You don’t think I deserve the charm. Guess what? I’m not sure I do yet either.” Chloé flipped her braid behind her and put her hands on her hips. “I’ve recently taken a huge interest in proving people wrong. I’m going to master this weapon, and you better get your phone out to record the whole thing, because the camera loves me.”

She unwound her whip and held it out, pointing it directly towards Alya like a declaration of war. Alya had obeyed and gotten her phone back out, recording. With one fluid wrist movement, the whip made a resounding crack. Alya smirked, while the other heroes cheered and clapped. “Wow.” Honeybee breathed. “I just have to figure out how to do that again.”

Alya stepped forward. “How about a photo for the blog? With your permission. And a statement? Or do you want a video rather than a photo?”

“A picture first,” Honeybee said. “Then you can take a video.”

The other three heroes weren’t sure where to stand before Alya shooed them away. “Not you guys. Everyone already knows about you three. I want a solo picture of Honeybee.”

Honeybee settled in front of the camera with ease. After taking the picture, Alya turned on her video and spoke into her phone. “I’ve managed to snag a scoop with Paris’ newest hero, who people reported sightings of last week, at various points.” She turned the camera to Honeybee. “What’s your name?”

“Call me Honeybee,” she said. “I’m honored to help defend Paris. Everything else you want to know about me, you’ll just have to find out.”

The video cut with the camera back on Alya’s face, an eyebrow raised and a playful expression on her face.

Honeybee did get much better with her whip by the end of the night. Meaning she could use it without consistently hurting herself or other people. They all stayed out way longer than they were supposed to which, superhero metabolism or not, meant being incredibly tired at school the next day.

“I can’t believe you patrol every night,” Chloé told Marinette before classes in the morning. “It’s so tiring. No wonder you’re always late.”

“To be fair, she was constantly late been before meeting Tikki.” Nino said.

“Yeah,” Adrien said. “I’m on time, and I’ve had my powers for about as long.”

Marinette’s texts with Chloé got a lot more interesting. One of those texts, Marinette received three weeks after Chloé had joined the team.

 

**[Chloé Bourgeois @ 13h35]**

**I didn’t realize quite how much I would have to rearrange my entire life because of the job. Daddy had a gala he wanted me to attend, and I went, but had to leave early. And the patrols mean finishing my homework much more efficiently.**

 

A more profound one was sent a couple days later.

 

**[Chloé Bourgeois @ 22h18]**

**There are four of us. Isn’t four people on patrol at once overkill, especially in certain neighborhoods? Wouldn’t it be easier to go in shifts on normal nights when there aren’t akuma attacks?**

 

Taking turns sounded like a great idea. One which, if used right, would make things more efficient.

 

**[Marinette Dupain-Cheng @ 22h23]**

**Why didn’t any of us think of that?**

**[Chloé Bourgeois @ 22h25]**

**Sometimes you need a fresh perspective ;))**


	21. Castaways

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the present, Marinette continues to be a terrible liar. In the past, more is revealed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There was a lot of ground to cover in the flashback portions of this chapter. I apologize if it comes off as especially fragmented or choppy.

“Where are you always running off too?” Juan had asked off-handedly a couple of times. Things had become even more exacerbated since she had rushed to Ethiopia. Marinette got the feeling Juan didn’t particularly care, but her former groupmates were increasingly suspicious of her. Plus, she had just returned from Hong Kong. There were only a few cities left, but Marinette had the sinking feeling that something was going to give. The others handled it well because huge lectures were much easier to slip away unnoticed from, especially as no one was keeping track of attendance, and they stuck to their inner circle of friends.

The holidays had been a good excuse for the franticness, but now that they were over, Marinette’s constantly rushing and being late was less inconspicuous.

“I just have a bunch of stuff to do,” Marinette always said.

 

“I stopped by your parents’ bakery over the weekend, but you weren’t even working there,” Willa mentioned casually on Monday.

“I mean, I’m not there all the time,” Marinette responded.

“You weren’t at school either.” There was Juan, asking again. “Isn’t school your top priority?”

She didn’t have to lie for this one. “Of course not. My family is.”

Family included her kwami and teammates.

Marinette turned to Willa. “When exactly did you go looking for me?” Marinette continued before her friend could answer. “Sorry, my phone died and I couldn’t get to a charger. I mean, I left it at home, but then I went back to get it, and forgot to charge it, so I wasted a bunch of time and still didn’t have a working phone. I was hanging out with my friends from school, um.” Tikki shoved Marinette from inside her bag, a signal to quit while she was ahead.

They weren’t lies. She had been hanging out with friends from school over the weekend.

\--

 

**Saturday**

For all the gorgeous greenery inside Victoria Park, it could not escape the city. Skyscrapers could be seen towering over the trees from anywhere in the greenspace. The fenced areas and smoothly paved paths made navigating easier. Sabrina had even messaged them directions, which the group only received in Hong Kong because Chloé had an international data plan. There was no service inside the labyrinth, but she had dashed outside as a civilian once they arrived to read the backlog of messages.

_Kingston St now_ , was the last of Sabrina’s messages reporting her and the akuma’s location.

The Labyrinth had let them out under the looming shadow of an IKEA building. Ladybug, Chat Noir, and Celeste emerged from the tunnels in costume, while Chloé pocketed her mobile phone and ran off to find a place to transform.

“There’s Kingston Street!” Chat Noir shouted. The three of them ran down it, to the amusement of passing cars and many pedestrians snapping photos. However, Kingston Street turned out to run for only a block, and they were left without directions.

“I bet she’s in the park,” Ladybug said. “She knows we always steer the akuma away from people first. This park doesn’t look free of people, but it’s the only option besides the bay.”

Honeybee caught up with the other three miraculous holders as they followed the first path they saw leading into Victoria Park. The path was paved into neat patterns with different colored brick. When they hit a circle that left them with multiple options, they followed the direction of the screaming and ran towards where everyone else was running away from. On the inside of the jogging trail, they found a much more open space.

 

The akuma terrorized the green, where petrified park-goers stood. Chat guessed that the ones whose flight instincts had truly kicked in were long gone, or standing a distance away filming. Sabrina had baited the giant shadow fox towards the trees, and was playing a game of cat and mouse she couldn’t possibly win in the long run. Honeybee rushed over and got between the creature and Sabrina.

“Honeycomb!”  The fox was swept off the ground and lifted midair as ribbons of gold wrapped around its legs and torso. The akuma hung from the branches between three closely placed trees like a piñata. It thrashed midair to no avail.

Sabrina had distanced herself a few paces before calling out to Honeybee. “What are you doing? Move!”

“Not possible,” Honeybee said simply. “Not with a thing this big. Besides, this is where all the drama is.” As if on cue the akuma swiped one nearby paw at her.

At the same time Honeybee had run over to Sabrina, Celeste counted nine people standing precariously close to where they were. “Run!” He shouted in English. “It isn’t safe. Move.” Someone took out a phone, and there was a camera flash.

“Wind Tunnel.” Celeste responded with a swing of his staff. Everyone closer than ten meters away who was not a miraculous user was blown steadily upward, floating up and back, until the wind lowered them down again on soft grass. He then turned to the trees, where everyone else was gathered.

The akuma was snipping and snarling at them, but it wasn’t the worst part. Ladybug saw it first, a motion similar to taking a deep breath, as she felt in her gut that something more was about to happen. Or maybe she was just lucky. Ladybug shoved Chat next to Honeybee and used her yo-yo as a shield for all of them just as a dark orb of shadowy energy shot out of its mouth. It didn’t spark as much as Cataclysm, but it was probably just as nasty an attack.

“Since when could it do that?!” Chat Noir gasped.

“Bee, can you move at all?” Ladybug asked.

“Not if you want that thing to stay still,” Honeybee said.

“You have to admit that the fact that it evolved is kind of awesome,” Chat Noir mused.

“Oh yeah, totally awesome.” Ladybug moved to make room for Chat, and they both stood in front of Honeybee with their weapons on defense.

At one point, the akuma thrashed less and lowered is head as if to glare at its assailants with judgement from the quantic realm. As its bright orange eyes stared down at them, the group noticed a fleck of something white and partially solid.

Celeste joined them quickly. “You guys all see…”

“Yep,” They chorused. The shard was lodged into the akuma’s right eye.

“Since Blue and I already used our superpowers, LB and Chat have to get the piece out.” Honeybee took out her whip, ready to use it as a shield. Celeste swung his staff as another ball of demon spit flew toward them. Ladybug and Chat leapt to opposite sides as a gust of wind from Celeste and Bee’s whip deflected the attack.

Ladybug gestured with her arm, meeting Chat’s eyes as they stood at opposite sides. Chat raised an eyebrow skeptically, but nodded. They ran around the trees holding the fox until they were behind it, facing a tail swishing like a black flame.

“This play feels slightly dishonorable,” Chat confessed to Ladybug as they converged behind the third tree.

“Oh, sweet kitty,” Ladybug quipped. “It is completely and utterly dishonorable, but I forgive you. Lucky Charm!” A cotton swab about the size of an apple landed in her hand. “What am I supposed to do with this?”

“While you figure it out,” Chat Noir sprang forward and climbed up the honeycomb ropes which were formed into a very convoluted spiderweb-jungle gym. He balanced on two ribbons by crouching and holding on with one hand. “Cataclysm,” He said, and thrust his free hand toward the back of the fox’s head. Ladybug felt her stomach twist as she figured out exactly what to do with her lucky item.

Ladybug climbed up to meet Chat. “I was okay with the dishonor, but this is disgusting.” The animal thrashed and spat out more energy orbs.

She had never considered what the inside of the akuma was made of. It was all magic from the quantic realm, for all it mattered. But after feeling the fur and touching its bone and being inside the stomach of one, Ladybug shouldn’t have been surprised by what Chat Noir’s attack revealed. Ladybug quickly moved into where Chat was situated. Chat Noir yelped as he lost his balance and used both hands to catch his fall. When he was repositioned further away, by the non-gaping open side of the akuma’s head, he gave Ladybug a questioning look.

“The ichor burns,” she explained as-a-matter-of-fact. Ladybug studiously ignored Chat Noir’s protests as she peeked inside the fox’s skull. Cataclysm was a force to be reckoned. Whatever gray matter and neuronal systems were inside had been completely obliterated by the attack. There wasn’t as much ichor as Ladybug thought there would be. What little did drip, especially toward the front of the skull, was easily avoided if Ladybug moved carefully, and believed in the absorbent power of her trusty cotton swab.

The half of the eyeball that remained in the socket was bright orange, and dripping with black ichor. The skull and what little brain tissue she grazed over quickly were black and shades of dark grey. Buried in the orange eyeball was a tiny orange-and-white shard. She felt for with her thinning cotton swab until she could grab it squarely and pull it out. Ladybug cleaned it the best she could with the soaked fibers, ignoring the burning on the fingertips where the cotton ball had worn out, and dropped it into her yoyo. “De-evilize,” she said. Chat Noir grabbed her around the waist and extended his baton to the ground. She felt Honeycomb disappear after a flash of light behind her as she was lowered to the ground. “Miraculous Ladybug,” she said as she tossed the (now smaller and soaked) cotton ball into the air.

By the time they had walked out to the edge of the park, reporters were on the scene, interviewing people, including a little boy who was declaring in British-Accented English that “It had been so cool to watch and to almost fly. I want to do it again.” He was probably one of the people Celeste had picked up.

The four of them were each swarmed by a different reporter. Someone asked Ladybug what she could tell them about the attack in English, then French, but assured her she could respond in French.

“The akuma attack was like all the other ones the world has been experiencing. It has been dealt with, and Hong Kong is safe now.” She heard her earnings beep. “I am sorry, I must get back to Paris as quickly as possible.”

She took off into the trees and de-transformed. When she emerged as a civilian, she blended easily into the crowd. The others had done the same. Sabrina, however, was still talking to the reporters, also getting asked questions in English, then French, and responding in French.

“I ran up to the akuma because someone had to distract it before the heroes got here. I knew they would arrive soon because they are always following akuma attacks. Since I grew up in Paris, I am probably more accustomed to the attacks.”

“Do you have a theory about how they are getting across the world so fast?”

“There are plenty of theories on the internet. I’m not sure what’s the truth, but it would be great if it were magic,” Sabrina said with a laugh. The reporter chuckled, and thanked her for her time.

“Oh, Alya is going to have a field day,” Marinette said when Sabrina caught up with them later.

They had moved from the park as the crowd thinned out. From an exit on Causeway Road, they walked for twelve minutes until they found a Starbucks. Chloé messaged Sabrina their location once she connected to their Wi-Fi. Sabrina arrived with a sullen face.

“The streets are still a bit mad,” Sabrina explained. “Everything going on has calmed down now that the akuma is gone, but the park sure has gotten a lot more popular. I’m sorry, I don’t know why or how. It wasn’t in the schedule, right?”

“The working theory may be that because you were exposed to so much of the magic hanging out with us, Volpina was triggered by your presence,” Nino said.

“So because I was walking around this city?”

“It doesn’t mean it’s your fault,” Chloé hurriedly added. “It was no one’s fault.”

“It’s just the way things are, and things could have been worse,” Marinette said.

“Everything happened so fast. I can hardly remember. How do you deal with it every time?” After a moment’s hesitation, Sabrina sat down at the table. “My legs are still shaking.”

“You did amazing,” Adrien said.

“It was smart to lure it into the park, away from the streets,” Marinette said. “And incredibly reckless.”

Sabrina’s face flushed, but she smiled. “I don’t want to hear about being too reckless from you lot.”

\--

 

**One Year Ago**

 

“I want to tell Sabrina,” Chloé said. It had been a few months since she’d received her miraculous. After several akuma attacks and patrols every couple of days, Chloé had adjusted to the team, and the team had adjusted to having her. Being who she was, she was still somewhat difficult to get along with outside of costume, but any residual hostility had died out as she’d grown on them. They had been putting up with Chloé for years. Now, she was a dependable teammate. With the way the other miraculous holders were looking at her at the moment, that last part was still up for debate.

“Just my identity,” Chloé clarified as the others’ expressions were a mix of skeptical and horrified. “It’s my secret to tell, the others aren’t, but Sabrina deserves to know about me.”  The four of them had just met up with Alya, Alix, and Nathaniel to study at the library. The miraculous holders had opted to move to a busy coffee shop for half an hour and plan the next few months of patrols. Chloé continued as she finished the last bite of her muffin. “What if something terrible actually happens to me? I understand keeping things from parents, but I want to tell _her._ ”

Adrien understood the implications of her words. Most likely, she was going to tell Sabrina regardless of whether they approved or not. “Thanks for asking first.”

Chloé shrugged. “We’re a team, right?”

Marinette stiffened. “What if she asks questions?”

“Please, do you not believe in my ability to evade the truth?”

Nino adjusted his baseball cap. “It’s your call.”

During the conversation, any doubt that remained was erased, and Chloé resolved to tell Sabrina. The identity reveal was probably a long time coming. Not due to all the pinky promises they had made over the years to tell each other everything (which Chloé, admittedly, hadn’t fulfilled). It was because Chloé had to stop responding to texts for hours at a time, whenever she went on patrol. She had to keep making up excuses to simply state that she was busy. “Busy with what?” was the questions she could never answer. Chloé could tell Sabrina was increasingly perplexed, but didn’t pry. Sabrina was the type who would leave it alone and gradually inch away. Above all the logistical difficulties, Chloé wholeheartedly wanted to tell her. It was the simplest reason, and the most important one.

Chloé called Sabrina for a seemingly-normal study/shopping day one weekend. Once Sabrina arrived at her suite, Chloé sat her down on one of the couches by the main door.

“I’ve got a big secret for you, and you have to promise not to tell anyone,” Chloé immediately began.

“Oh yeah?” Sabrina sounded only mildly interested. Chloé’s flare for the dramatic meant that Sabrina had heard the line before. ‘Big secret’ was anything from buying a new pair of boots to an invite to a party to Chloé’s confession that she really, truly wanted to attempt getting into business school, though it was a little late to start. This secret was in a whole other league.

With a wave of her hand, Chloé signaled Raafa to come out from behind a vase as her words came out in a rush. “This is Raafa. Her actual name is Pollen, but she prefers to be called Raafa. It’s a nickname she picked up over the years.” Raafa landed on Chloé’s shoulder. “She’s my kwami. I’m Honeybee, like, the superhero. It’s me.”

In the stunned silence that followed, Chloé transformed before Sabrina’s eyes. “I’m a miraculous holder.”

After several minutes that felt like several hours, Sabrina seemed to remember how to move again. She took off her glasses, wiped them on her blouse, and put them back on. It took some more time before she seemed to regain her ability to speak. “That’s why you’ve been so flighty these few weeks?!” As the puzzle pieces were arranged in her head, Sabrina’s voice got louder, and she spoke faster. “How did this happen? You need to explain in far more detail.”

Chloé recounted how she had found the bee-shaped hairclip. She demonstrated her powers for good measure, then de-transformed. “Sabrina, I almost lost you once, and I don’t want it to happen again. Keeping a secret like this from you could have done it.”

“Do you know the other miraculous holders?” Sabrina asked as Chloé served coffee from the room service cart that had been delivered before Sabrina had arrived.

“I know the others’ IDs, but it’s not my secret to tell.” Raafa nudged Sabrina and introduced herself formally.

Sabrina giggled. “Raafa is like the cutest thing I’ve ever seen, oh my God. Gods?” Sabrina cupped the bee kwami in one palm and pet it gently with her other hand. “Hey, you know what? Raafa kind of resembles that toy we found in your limo, once. It was red, smiled weirdly, kind-of traumatizing to look at. I think it belonged to Mar…”

Shit. All the blood might as well have drained from Chloé’s body, considering how lightheaded she felt. Chloé unceremoniously plopped down on the opposite sofa. “I’m not supposed to say anything!”

Sabrina didn’t finish her sentence. “I can keep more than one secret,” she said instead.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Chloé lifted the lid off the tray from room service and doled out pastries before insisting they forget studying and go see a movie instead. Chloé couldn’t possibly think about studying now. Not even a movie was enough to distract her from what may or may not have happened. Sabrina, to her credit, didn’t confront Marinette. In fact, Sabrina didn’t act any different than usual.

 

The five of them, and Alya, were studying in Marinette’s room for finals a week later when Sabrina yelped and jumped back. Everyone rose in alarm.

“You’re one of them, aren’t you? A kwami?” It was the most different Sabrina had acted since finding out Honeybee’s identity.

The others approached where Sabrina was pointing. She’d caught Plagg tangled up in some spare ribbons on Marinette’s desk.

Sabrina looked at everyone else. The seconds ticked away, along with any chance of feigning ignorance or saving the situation. Raafa had floated off dreamily before being prodded by Duusu, who was still trying to stay hidden, to go help the poor black cat. There were nods, barely perceptible across the room, and the group came to a unanimous decision.

“That’s my kwami, Plagg.” Adrien stepped forward. “I’m Chat Noir.”

“It’s okay to freak out,” Raafa whispered into Sabrina’s ear. “However, you shouldn’t have to. I think you’re doing just fine.”

Sabrina pulled at her sweater and readjusted her headband. She silently surveyed the room before clapping her hands together. “Judging from everyone’s reactions, I’d say that everyone in this room knows.” Sabrina spun on her heels and faced Alya. “Alya, you’re not a miraculous holder, are you?”

“What?! Why me?” Alya asked suspiciously. “Why couldn’t I hold a miraculous?”

“I mean, I don’t know anything about this magic stuff, but you’re writing about the masked heroes.” Sabrina swallowed and shrank slightly under Alya’s glare. “You were way too excited when Ladybug first debuted to actually be her, right? It wasn’t that long ago. Which leaves…” Sabrina turned her head toward Nino, and then Marinette.

Marinette spoke first. “How fast you figured it out makes me feel dumb about how long it took me to realize Chat Noir’s secret identity.”

“You feel dumb about it?” Adrien’s voice was incredulous. “And Plagg? I cannot believe…”

“Sorry.” The cat kwami sounded slightly remorseful.

“I expected nothing less,” Dusuu said as he flew out from hiding. Tikki was close behind, trying to keep a fight from breaking out.

“The cat’s really out of a bag, huh?” Adrien said.

Marinette yanked her pigtails and facepalmed. “Ugh. No. Why?” She stalked back to her desk and picked up her notes again, trying to return to studying and ignore any more awful puns. Adrien and Nino burst out laughing. Chloé and Alya regarded Sabrina with keen academic interest, wondering to themselves and each other how she would handle seeing all four of the kwami at once.

“Oh, you guys are marvelous! Can I pet you?” Sabrina stared at each creature, fascinated. “If you don’t mind me asking, how do your heads stay up? Do you have something in the torso to balance out the mass of your bodies? What’s your anatomy is like? Iron or copper based blood?”

“Remember, all this,” Marinette gestured around the room, “needs to remain a secret.”

“Of course,” Sabrina sounded insulted. “I’m not an idiot.”

“No you aren’t,” Marinette muttered, more to herself. “You figured it out quickest of all of us.”

Suddenly, Alya, who was standing closest to the stairs, heard footsteps from below. “I think your parents are coming, Marinette. Quickly, hide!” The kwami obliged as the trapped door opened and the teenagers tried not to look suspicious standing around the room.

“We have croissants and Danishes,” Tom announced.

“And tea,” Sabine added.

After that eventful study session, information trickled down to Sabrina over the summer months and the start of the school year. Some of it was from asking questions directly, but a lot of it was from piecing together info from conversations the “quantic squad” had without minding she and Alya listening in.

 

They were veering into one such conversation during late autumn. The six of them were huddled over a table in a bustling café, doing schoolwork. Sabrina, specifically, was looking up info about taking the test for university. Alya and Marinette were talking in hushed tones. Alya mentioned that she had been tracking the akuma attacks, which were getting more frequent.

“Hawkmoth is getting desperate,” Alya said. “His attacks are becoming riskier and more dangerous. A civilian was nearly blown to bits last week.”

Marinette gulped but didn’t deny it. The latest akumatized person had flamethrowers in their arsenal. It had been a quick, exhaustive fight out of necessity.

“Marinette, you know Tikki’s powers can’t bring the dead back to life,” Alya continued. “You’ve all been safe so far, and you’ve all been very lucky. But it can’t go on forever. Eventually, one side or the other is going to make a decisive action. Which side do you want it to be?”

The miraculous users had explained aspects of their transformations to the others, such as recharge foods and limited time in costume after using signature moves. They talked about Master Fu, the mysterious Yoda-figure Sabrina had never met, and scattered training sessions they had with the man. More recently, they had been told the suspicion of Hawkmoth’s identity, and the nature of his powers.

“Why don’t you check in the book?” Chloé looked up from her phone. “That book with all the info about past holders?”

“The book Master Fu keeps under lock and key?” Nino pointed out.  
“That one, but there might be others,” Chloé said. “I think we’ve only seen a little of his extensive library.”

“We could ask Master Fu for the books,” Adrien said. “However, I’m not sure what we’ll find. If we even find anything.”

“I’m not saying I’m against decisive action, as Alya put it…” Marinette began, but couldn’t finish her sentence.

“You’re afraid it will kill him. Whoever it is,” Sabrina confirmed. Even if it wasn’t Adrien’s father. She didn’t say those words aloud. It might have been, it might not have. It probably was. Either way, Adrien seemed to take it with grace and resignation, like how he dealt with all things relating to his family.

“We’ll save him.” Marinette focused principally on Adrien as she spoke. “Whoever it is. We’ll save him. We’ll make things okay.”

It sounded presumptuous to Sabrina, but Marinette always was that ambitious.

“All accounts point to the user dying if forcibly removed from the miraculous. That disruption in power will kill them, for certain,” Nino grumbled.

“Isn’t there another way?” Sabrina asked, not caring how naïve she sounded. “This is magic, right?”

“Magic still has rules,” Adrien sighed. “Forces to balance out, equal and opposite reactions.”

Sabrina spoke again. “You don’t know all the rules yet, do you?”

“Of course not,” Chloé said. “I’m not even sure Master Fu does.”

“Let me help research,” Sabrina pressed. “I’m good at research. I like it, even.”

It took a few more minutes of back-and-forth, but Alya could be very persuasive. It helped that the entire squad was willing to try. It took five more days to hatch out a plan and put it into action. They were going to sneak Marinette, Adrien, and Sabrina into Master Fu’s apartment to take pictures of pages of some of the more interesting books on the shelves. It involved Chloé and Nino dipping the kwami in watercolors and starting a dire ruckus.

While Master Fu was distracted and diverted from the apartment, Marinette, Adrien, and Sabrina slipped inside. They didn’t have much time, and were taking photos at a frantic pace. They skimmed through tables of contents and flipped through pages, and were disheartened to learn that most of these books didn’t come with a search function or even an appendix. They reached the ten-minute mark, when Alya was set to “bump into” the group and cause further incidence. Tikki and Plagg zipped around too, trying to speed up the process.

What they hadn’t factored in was Wayzz being in the apartment instead of with his host.

The turtle kwami got such a strange look on his face at the sight of the bespectacled ginger girl thumbing through books along with two miraculous holders and their kwami that he didn’t berate them. Instead, he chuckled, which made all of them jump.

“Wayzz,” Tikki said. “You must understand.”

“It isn’t as bad as what it looks like,” Plagg said.

“No, it’s probably worse,” Wayzz retorted. “I recommend the scrolls back there too.”

“Wait, you’re helping us?” Adrien didn’t bother to conceal the surprise.

“You’re on the right track.” Wayzz soundlessly drifted towards the door. “Now, I’m going to retrieve my host. I’ll be back in fifteen minutes.”

They went through the remainder of the papers in twelve. Press & Co, as their chatroom was dubbed, spent the next few months tinkering with possibilities. As the combed through ideas, the inevitability of what would happen if they couldn’t find the right theory loomed overhead.

“It’s the immovable force meets the unstoppable object. Removing the miraculous, the person dying from the after-shock is the equal and opposite reaction,” Sabrina mused dejectedly one afternoon. “There needs to be something to even in out, to take the blow instead of the person’s mind and body.”

“What could possibly have that power?” Nino asked for the sake of bouncing around ideas.

“Do remember we’re trying to prevent anyone and everyone from dying, so nothing self-sacrificial, okay?” Marinette warned in a firm voice.

 

It was Alya who suggested that they look through the archives and focus on past users instead of just the plethora of possible magic incantations they could barely understand. (“There is so much here!” Alya had exclaimed. “Not for day-to-day stuff like the powers you are used to. They talk about incantations and combining the magic of more than one miraculous holder. Did you know there was records of other miraculouses too? The albatross, who controlled the wind _and_ the sea? Plus something resembling a big cat, but I’m not sure which one. The descriptions keep changing...”)

They found records of a working theory of a kwami using its own power to negate the pushback of another miraculous as a footnote in the archives. The equal and opposite reaction wasn’t for what they wanted exactly. The people in the books had been trying to save a host corrupted by some dark force—infected might have been the better term—and it still involved the poor person’s arm getting chopped off after isolating the “infection” to one spot. However, the kwami already possessing the miraculous holder helped push the force out. The miraculous item, the kwami’s anchor, had needed extensive repair afterwards but, in all, it was deemed a success.

Sabrina also found other information about experimental rituals being done in some “other realm,” whatever that meant. The descriptions implied the rituals existed on a grander, larger scale. Sabrina showed Marinette what she found on experimental rituals. Press & Co were occupying Chloé’s suite at the time, plotting. Tikki pulled Marinette aside to talk to her.

“If you do this, if you really want to try, you might need to come up with your own ritual,” the kwami of creation said.

“What?” Marinette whispered. “My own ritual? I’d want to do this by myself because I don’t want to endanger anyone else, but it’s not like I would have time to practice. There is no trial run for… whatever is going to happen.”

“No,” Tikki shook her head. “You have to simply trust in the magic.”

“What would be the counterweight?”

“The spell to summon one,” Tikki explained. “I could do it. It would involve the other realm, which is always tricky and unpredictable, but regardless of if you do the spell or not, there _will_ be a counterweight needed, whatever, or whoever, it is.”

“You mean like Lucky Charm?” Marinette tried not to sound annoyed at the fact that Tikki hadn’t thought to mention these details sooner. Their planned assault was in three days, they had decided. Or, perhaps Tikki had purposefully waited until the quantic squad had pieces of a definitive plan to break the news.

“Hopefully, Lucky Charm is all you’ll need,” Tikki said. They shared a meaningful look, but before Marinette could say anything in response, Tikki flittered off and stared at their spread of printed-out photos of book pages. She muttered something about speaking to Wayzz. Tikki seemed distracted, but Marinette chose not to pry. If it were important, Tikki would tell her.

 

The night before the planned attack, Tikki taught Marinette an incantation in her bedroom. “You’ll get a proper counterweight, for sure,” Tikki told her. “The incantation will guarantee it. Whatever happens tomorrow, if all else fails, just trust me.”

“Of course, I trust you, Tikki.” The reply came automatically. “I always trust you.”

“Good luck tomorrow, Marinette.”

Marinette thought it was funny that the kwami of creation and luck felt the need to wish her luck, of all things. Didn’t it come with the territory?  “Thanks, you too.” She laid back in bed and tried to get some sleep.


	22. Flight Risks

**Present Time**

Adrien was cordial with his father now. He was conversing with Gabriel, whether directly through email or via Nathalie. Since after New Year’s, to tell the truth. The change wasn’t as sudden as it could have been. At first, a lot of the contact regarded his schedule, as Adrien had participated in several campaigns.

One of the campaigns had been for his father’s label, and he had gone through the regular screening process for it: sitting at a casting, staring at his phone awkwardly to avoid looks from the other models. He was the guy on the poster on the wall of the room. When Hale had shown up, they had stuck to each other.

Yet, once all the work things were arranged, his father was still talking to him, somehow. Gabriel had mentioned business dealings and then suddenly presented Adrien with two tickets to the ballet. (Marinette had gone crazy over the costumes, and the dancing, when they went.) One day, his father had inquired what he had eaten for breakfast and Adrien had texted him a picture of his lunch after he had gotten over the whiplash.

Here it was again: an email talking of travel plans in minute detail. Some stiff attempt at a grapevine. Gabriel always knew all of Adrien’s travel plans (the ones that didn’t involve magic, anyway) but he had never known of his father’s unless it directly conflicted with a meeting with him. (Which happened more than Adrien cared to keep track of at this point.)

Adrien was waiting in the wings again, his makeup done for a shoot that wasn’t starting for another 2 hours. What did people even do while they were waiting, before smartphones were invented? He was browsing the internet, talking to people, and emailing his father because he was instructed explicitly that he couldn’t mess up the eyeliner and his shirt would fall off if he moved. (Someone had just finished pinning it up.)

 

_Dear Father,_

_Safe travels. Marinette is back in Paris. She told me to tell you she appreciated the offer of getting tickets to NYFW, but is far too busy with schoolwork to consider traveling so far. Her old internship offered her a ticket to a show in London, so she will be going to that one. I’m honored you asked me to represent the Agreste label for the London shows, and for the dinner in Milan. The current arrangements are fine. It’s easy enough for me to keep up with textbook readings wherever I am, thank you for asking. Chloé is a guest at Fashion Week, but I haven’t seen her at all. I’m staying at the Ritz, as per your request._

_Sincerely,_

_Adrien_

 

It was a good thing lies could be typed easily. Marinette would arrive in New York later, along with Nino, and Adrien would surely run into Chlo. He had accepted his father’s offer of a private room instead of company-provided housing because, although squeamish about the special treatment, it made sneaking off a lot easier.

He was in New York, not for Fashion Week like Chlo was, but to shoot an expansive editorial campaign that involved both male and female models that happened to coincide with Women’s Fashion Week in New York. Adrien couldn’t be sure, but the scheduling might have been intentional. It was for a small, up-and-coming design house.

 

**[Marinette Dupain-Cheng @ 11h18 <Eastern Standard Time>]**

**I think we’ve figured out the time difference and we’ll be there, as scheduled.**

**[Adrien Agreste @ 11h19]**

**Still waiting on set. I must mention I don’t have a proper shirt on. I would take a picture, but you know, designer copyrights.**

**[Marinette Dupain-Cheng @ 11h21]**

**Yeah, can’t have you carted off to jail for infringement without a shirt on. It would be unfair.**

**[Adrien Agreste @ 11h24]**

**It would be CATastrophic.**

**[Marinette Dupain-Cheng @ 11h26]**

**OMG no. I’m going to go back to work now. I should finish early so I can meet Alya and Wendy for a movie. They’re meeting for the first time. I hope they get along. I think they’ll like each other.**

 

Except they kept texting for the next 45 minutes, with an interruption in the middle, as Adrien was properly sewn into his clothing.

 

**[Adrien Agreste @ 12h15]**

**Sound check is done. Must go line up. Talk later.**

 

Hale, who had also booked the campaign, came up to Adrien when the shoot was over, and they’d all changed back to their street clothes. “You’re coming to the after party, right? It’s going to be with a lot of the runway shows.”

“Nah, I’ve this thing with Marinette,” Adrien said.

Hale laughed. “What, a Skype date? You’ll see her in 3 days when you get back to Paris, won’t you?”

“Yeah, so? I’ll have to be in London pretty soon after.”

“Alright, dude.” Hale clapped him on the back. “You’re so whipped, it’s cute.” He said the last part in English, using slang Adrien didn’t understand. It didn’t matter, as Adrien was more concerned with his own pre-planned event. He got a message from Chloé, who had spent the better part of the afternoon scouting the area and waiting for Nino and Marinette to arrive. The message was a map pin without context. It was time to go.

\--

 

The ley line had sent Celeste and Ladybug to the bottom stretch of Central Park. Once they arrived, Honeybee told them to head south over the coms. Celeste flew himself and Ladybug past the horse carriages and cyclists ten blocks to meet them.

From what he’d seen of it, New York was constantly under construction in the same way that Paris was. He had been there before, on trips with his father and on castings for Fashion Week, but he had never been to this spot. The akuma had activated near the New York public library by Bryant Park—the large one that wasn’t actual a lending library, not the smaller one two blocks over. The area was farther north than he had ever had to go for all the shows he’d walked. For the shows, and for general tourism, Adrien had been driven everywhere.

Something Spiderman never emphasized was how the skyline of New York was incredibly tricky to use as a route of transport. The varying heights of adjacent buildings required a lot of slowing down and scaling up, and then back down, or giant, vaulting leaps. They’d made it look so easy in the movies.

When they reached the park, most of the civilians, including the people who worked at the stands, had fled or been evacuated into the public library building or ducked into the subways stations.

Five police officers were at the scene. Some had their guns out, but had no idea what to do with the giant shadow fox currently prowling on the roof of the neo-classical building. The heroes were recognized when they arrived and welcomed into the now-empty park. He and Honeybee hopped onto the roof of one of the stands.

From his vantage point, Chat Noir saw that the blocks surrounding the park had been cleared. The akuma was treated like a stray animal or active shooter instead of an earthquake, and all those on the street had run into the nearest buildings, with stores promptly shutting their doors. The akuma turned out its ears at the sound of their approach and slowly turned towards them. Its orange eyes flickering at them. Once its face was in full view they could all see the fragment of Volpina on the akuma’s left cheek gleaming like a teardrop.

The fox cried and opened its mouth, shooting black fire at them. They dodged and blocked with their respective weapons. Luckily, it seemed completely uninterested in anyone that didn’t have a miraculous and focused solely on the heroes. Chat Noir leapt from one stand to the other, over a circular table, and onto the ground. He winced at the property damage incurred as the fox shot more fireballs. Thin trails of smoke came from the damaged metal.

Chat saw Celeste and Ladybug approaching, growing specks in the distance, and their landing on the white marble roof of the library just as the akuma made a dive for him and Honeybee. They leapt in opposite directions at the last possible moment. Honeybee struck the akuma with her whip as Celeste dropped Ladybug, who latched her yo-yo onto the akuma and swung to land on the roof. Once her feet were planted, Ladybug loosened the yo-yo, which the akuma shook off easily. The akuma turned to Chat and ran at him like a bullet.

“Wind Tunnel!” Standing on another roof, Celeste swung his staff with the demeanor of a minor god, and the akuma was lifted off its feet and across the green until it slammed quite painfully into the carousel in the middle of the empty park. The sound of sharp cracks pierced the air as a handful of painted horses caught the akuma’s fall. Celeste used the momentum to get the carousel to spin. The entire exchange, from the second the fox jumped from the roof to its impact, lasted less than a minute. It had moved so fast the akuma had been a streak of black with thin lines of orange, and the motion had left Chat Noir dizzy. The other three miraculous users ran up to the carousel, which was speeding up.

Chat Noir sensed it first. He couldn’t be sure what gave it away. Perhaps the twitch of fox whiskers, a blink of the eyes, a twitch of its tail, but Chat Noir knew. “The carousel is moving too slow for it,” he shouted. “It’s going to jump off!”

“Not happening,” Honeybee declared. “Honeycomb!”

Ribbons of yellow shot out and grabbed the akuma by its lower torso and hind legs. The ribbons clung to the nearest pillars and wooden horses like vines, before expanding out in all directions. The akuma struggled, clawing and biting at its new restraints. Then, it started shooting fireballs.

“Crap!” Honeybee cried as Ladybug swung her yoyo to one of the intact pillars on the carousel. She landed in front of the akuma. Chat Noir followed after her. Meanwhile, Bee and Celeste were trying to discourage the akuma from working on its restraints by striking and throwing sharp gusts of wind at it. Chat Noir provided cover for Ladybug with his baton as Ladybug said “Lucky Charm.” Her yo-yo accidentally hit the roof of the carousel, but a rectangular mirror the size of A4 paper landed in her hands anyway.

As Ladybug stared, a glint of light reflected off Chat Noir’s ring and onto the mirror. Ladybug turned the mirror around and caught more light on it. The metal from Chat Noir’s spinning baton and the glow from Honeycomb may have also helped with the glare it created.

The light caught it in its eyes and, for the first time since Chat Noir had known these shadow foxes to exist, he saw one purposefully squeeze its eyes shut. Chat Noir charged at it. “Cataclysm!” He shouted as he jumped up and slammed his palm into the akuma’s face. Ladybug ran up next to him and plucked the now-dislodged shard out of what was left of the fox’s cheek and dropping it into her yo-yo. “De-evilize,” she said, and then, “Miraculous Ladybug!”

As the swarm of ladybugs repaired the wrecked stands and tables and chairs (as well as some chunks of the roof of the library building, and the carousel, and probably a lot more Chat hadn’t noticed), the heroes seemed to vanish.

The four of them re-converged on the other corner of the same block, where Bryant Park wasn’t visible, in the shadow of the building Celeste had been standing on minutes earlier. Although the building took up half a city block, it seemed miniscule in comparison to all the surrounding high-rises.

“FIREBALLS?! Seriously? Why?!” Marinette pressed her hands to her head as the others looked on, amused.

“Ready?” Chloé asked, checking her phone. “I’ve got Google Maps out. We can walk up to the Labyrinth entrance and buy recharge food on the way.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Nino said as Adrien and Marinette nodded. They started towards their second destination.

\--

 

The ley line took them to Parc La Fountine, where their first sight upon exiting was bare trees covered in snow. Celeste flew up and scanned their surroundings.

“We’re near the Old Port,” he shouted. They were minutes into debating whether they should attempt to sense the akuma or to wait, when a large black creature ran past them.

It could have been a large dog, and under the city lights they could discern a canine shape, but what absolutely convinced them were the fox’s tails. Somehow there were two of them, and a shard was caught in the fur at the end of one of the tails. Which one, they couldn’t tell as the pair constantly flickered back and forth like conspiratorial flames. The fox was on the sidewalk. It seemed to regard the group calmly—not attacking them immediately or chasing them into the grass where they stood like Ladybug had expected, given its behavior during the last few attacks. Instead, a noise came from its throat that sounded like a mocking chuckle, and the fox darted away.

In the dead of night, the streets were largely empty of cars. The four heroes chased the fox through wet, slightly salted sidewalks. The skyline wasn’t as imposing as New York’s, but the amount of snow on the roof and uncleared balconies did not suggest good traction. Instead, they ran at street level and made sudden turns following the large blur of movement. Due to its much smaller size, this akuma was way faster than the one they had needed to chase down in Moscow. It was also prone to making twists and turns and jumping across streets to the point where the city felt more like an expansive maze in Marinette’s mind. Even Celeste couldn’t catch up to it airborne. It stayed half a block away, consistently, as if the entire chase was a ruse to tire them out. It may have been working.

Not for the first time today, Ladybug wished they had come to a city at different time. They ran down the length of the park before turning onto shorter blocks, which they followed in a zig-zag fashion. They were approaching downtown. The fox passed the Beaudry metro station as it ran down Rue Sainte-Catherine E. (Street names were conveniently painted on the roads in broad white lettering.) On that street, they heard pulsing club music from a block away. It was too late for there to be people lined up outside to enter, but there were several groups and couples staggering out, walking down streets or hailing cabs.

They were running towards an art installation next to a brick building when Honeybee huffed and turned out the blunt side of her whip.

“Can you get a clear shot at this distance?” Ladybug asked as she ran.

“There’s more people down there, and I’d rather try when there isn’t,” Honeybee said. She hadn’t stopped running, and didn’t pause as she shouted “Honeycomb!” The burst of yellow from her whip was followed by random cheers. Perhaps it had looked like a sudden lightshow in the distance. Unfortunately, the fox didn’t seem to have stopped. Honeybee released the move after a few seconds so she could keep running with the rest.

The fox made a sharp left, and they all followed it onto St Hubert Street. The buildings here had much older architecture. Honeybee excused herself to de-transform and recharge. Chat Noir, Ladybug, and Celeste were still frantically running after the fox when she caught up to them. The streets turned downhill and then uphill as the roads changed from concrete to ones paved with brick. Ladybug could smell sea salt in the air. They turned a corner and entered what must have been old town. It resembled the older parts of Paris, with shop signs dangling out of quirky brick buildings.

“Honeycomb!” Bee tried again as they made yet another turn and a longer, grander building marked with Roman columns on the side and a dome at its center ended up on their left. There was another burst of yellow light. They didn’t stop running.

The group sighed with relief when they saw the akuma had been stalled.

“You got it in one of the hind legs!” Ladybug said. “Good work!”

“Now it’s shooting fireballs at the Honeycomb,” Chat Noir observed.

 “Wind Tunnel!” Celeste said. He had landed on the ground next to Ladybug and Chat Noir, and from this distance, he didn’t miss. Celeste created a vortex, a vacuum of sorts that trapped the akuma’s other leg straight behind it. He was also presenting himself as a second target for the fireballs.

Ladybug winced as some stray energy orbs created holes in the base of some of the buildings. Then, with a yowl, the akuma turned its head as far back as it would go and aimed its snout upward.

Chat Noir moved in front of Celeste. “Catalysm!” He said as Ladybug veered to the side and crouched down by the fox’s tails, neither of which would stop moving long enough for her to grab it.

“Lucky Charm!” Ladybug said as Chat Noir met the approaching energy orb with one of his own. They effectively canceled each other out. Honeybee, who was still immobilized, shouted a word of thanks from half a block away. It was a trick that would only work once. Chat Noir seemed to understand as much, and ran in front of the akuma as a large, long piece of Velcro dropped into Ladybug’s hands.

Chat Noir was baiting it with his baton, trying to get it to turn around and aim its attacks toward the front as Ladybug wrapped her yo-yo string around both tails at once. The fox faced him when he started poking the inside of its ear with his extended baton. The fox rained attacks from its mouth, which Chat Noir did his best to block.

Even bound by the yo-yo string, the end of the akuma’s tails twitched where the shard rested on one of them. Ladybug still couldn’t tell which, and was getting dizzy from watching. She held the Velcro near the tails and waited until its fur dragged entirely across it and got stuck. Needing to free up one of her hands, she put the yo-yo string in her mouth and plucked out the shard from the tail. She let go of the Velcro, and used that hand to pick up the string. The tails started flickering again once Ladybug retracted the yo-yo.

“De-evilize,” Ladybug said as Chat Noir approached and plucked the piece of Velcro off the fox’s tails. Celeste and Honeybee released their superpowers once they saw the akuma fully dissolve. Chat handed Ladybug the Velcro. “Miraculous Ladybug!” She shouted as she threw it above her head.

As they were out of recharge food, the four of them made the brisk walk back to the labyrinth entrance, casually commenting on the sights and the passing groups of people. Marinette thought the _québécois_ sounded extremely pretty. They others seemed to agree as they listened in on the streets, fascinated. Once the groups thinned out, they carried on in easy silence until the labyrinth. They had survived. These places hadn’t been the worst ones.


	23. Off to the Races

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: This chapter contains triggers for PTSD/ PTSD-like symptoms.

Marinette had one class during spring semester that was purely sit-down and lecture based. It was called _A Visual History of the Western World_ and dealt largely with intersections between fashion and other art forms. The first unit focused on sculpture and architecture. It ran like an art history class, with students sitting in a small lecture hall taking notes with their laptops or notebooks while staring at a PowerPoint. Marinette sat in the back, next to Willa, with only her notebook in front of her.

The professor spoke of the V&A Museum building. Looking at the historic slides expounding on its long architectural history—never mind the art contained inside it, Marinette recalled very vividly, how she’d been in London two days prior _._

“You were there over the weekend, right?” Willa whispered. “How was London?”

Marinette had been presented a ticket to a show by Balmain. She had a feeling Amalia had pulled some strings for it to happen. It was only for one show, and, unlike Gabriel Agreste’s offer, she hadn’t been sure how to decline. So, she’d gone, to the envy of her other classmates.

 “I didn’t go to that museum. I didn’t even know it existed. London, though, was amazing,” Marinette said, because she knew that was the ‘right answer.’ _It had been horrifying._

 

**Two Days Ago**

It was so early when Marinette got the news that it wasn’t even light out. Marinette rubbed her eyes as she scanned her phone. She had received two emails. The first was from Alya, with a link to BBC’s live coverage of an ongoing akuma attack. She sat straight up and checked the second email. It was an announcement from the organizers of fashion week, sent to all the invitees, to any portion of the events. _Due to the sudden akuma attacks, all of today’s events are cancelled until further notice. Once the issue has been dealt with, you will receive an email with information about the rescheduling._

Marinette jumped out of bed and dressed in a hurry, throwing on a pale pink sweater, black skinny jeans, and sneakers. She tied her hair up in a messy bun and shoved her make-up, phone, tablet, and charger into her bag. It wouldn’t matter for her transformation, but first, the hotel staff had to see her leaving the building. Once out, Marinette ducked behind an iconic red telephone booth and transformed. She sent a message through her com to everyone, including Nino in Paris.

Chat Noir responded first, saying he’d meet Ladybug where the akuma was. His hotel was across the Thames from where she was staying and much closer to the showrooms. Using Honeybee’s favorite trick to maintain use of her phone, Ladybug had the live report from BBC open and was burning through her data plan trying to use her GPS. The news said the akuma had been first spotted at Southwark Park but was making its way along the river. Ladybug leapt across the roofs of the residential neighborhood.  The akuma wasn’t large enough to be visible from where she was, which she took as a good thing. The Thames was flowing violently in the bitter cold. She couldn’t feel it in the suit, but the pedestrians who were bundled up and her memory of getting out at Paddington Station last night confirmed the dreary, overcast day.

The London skyline, from what she could currently see, was charming. It the distance, she could see Tower Bridge, which, according to the news, was right where the akuma was stepping onto. Ladybug deposited her phone on the roof of an apartment building with an off-white exterior that stood taller than many of its surrounding neighbors. The place was near Jamaica Road. She filed the address away in her memory and headed towards the attack. The pair of towers that marked one of London’s most famous bridges was getting closer and closer. It looked like she was getting there first.

 

**Present Time**

“Marinette? Marinette, class is over.” Willa was tapping her own pen against Marinette’s notebook, which had about ten words written on it. Sub-par note taking for an hour’s lecture.

“Sorry, sorry, I must have been daydreaming.” Marinette gathered her things and headed for their next class, which was practice time in the atelier. They had an hour there before lunch.

Willa grinned happily at her. “Dreaming about how incredible Fashion Week was?”

“It’s still happening, you know,” Marinette said rather than confirm or deny.

“How did you manage to get in?” Valerie asked as they swept into the room.

Marinette shrugged. “I was offered a ticket, and I accepted.” She headed to her desk and got to work before anything else could be said. The semester had picked up right where the previous had left off, with a flurry of assignments and high expectations. She was doing the base for a jacket today. The students got to work diligently.

“I feel like I want to stab something, and it seems I get my wish because I’ve pricked myself with the needle about a thousand times today,” Willa huffed under her breath loud enough for Marinette to hear about forty minutes in.

“We’re almost done,” Marinette offered lightly, although she had barely made any progress on the jacket. She had meant it time-wise, as in, it was almost lunch time, but her words had been interpreted another way.

“How are you always so cheerful?” Val interrupted, sounding genuinely perplexed.

“Happy thoughts,” Marinette joked, but it came out flat. “Think of chocolate and gummy bears and how nice the world will be after the project is finished.”

“That’s Marinette for you,” Juan chirped. “All she thinks about is fashion and happy thoughts.”

Marinette smiled and hunched back over her work. She had pricked herself a fair number of times with a needle today too, and had to keep undoing and re-sewing the crooked seams.

_Right_ , all she had to think about was the cloth in front of her and suppers with her friends and seeing parents at various times in the week. In another life, maybe it would have been true. However, even those who weren’t superheroes had their own worries, and who was she to assume?

_Occasionally, I wish all I_ could _think about was fashion and happy thoughts._ If all she had in her brain was cotton candy; if it would make things better; if she would stop thinking for a while.

 

**Two Days Ago**

The akuma was on the smaller side, about 1.2 meters tall, and it only had one tail this time. Ladybug did not spot the shard at first, but once she swung onto the top of the nearer tower and peered down at the akuma, who was observing the rushing river water curiously, she saw it. The orange-white fragment was at the very top of the akuma’s head, nestled between its two ears. Those ears twitched and the akuma spun, peering up at Ladybug. Ladybug ducked under the bridge as the fox started shooting fireballs at her.

Ladybug noticed the few tourists who were still inside the tower then. She spoke in English. “Follow me. I will get you safe,” she said. The group, about ten or so people, including a family of five, obliged. Once they reached the base of the tower she signaled to the officers nearby and let them take the civilians away. The police had created a barricade with their shields and blockaded the bridge.

When Ladybug reappeared on the other side of the tower, the akuma was waiting for her. It pelted her with fireballs, which she blocked with her yo-yo. She had to hold out until at least one other person got there. It had been so much easier before the fox learned to shoot fireballs. Ladybug kept the communicator open out of habit, but it did her little use. All she could hear was static, if she could hear anything at all over the steady hum her yo-yo made as she swung in it circles.

“I’m sorry I’m late to the party,” a voice overhead called out. Chat Noir landed in a crouch on the other side of the bridge. Ladybug smiled, a little too tired to answer, and the fox turned and aimed at its new target. Ladybug took the break in being the moving target to catapult herself forward, edging closer to the fox. As Chat Noir batted the akuma with his baton, Ladybug saw someone dressed in black and gold approaching from behind him.

Honeybee veered to the side and cracked her whip at the akuma. It shrank back and stopped throwing fireballs momentarily, before turning to its new target. Ladybug ran closer to Honeybee and extended her yo-yo to block the fireballs that came her way. The three miraculous users looked at each other and came to an understanding; they all knew where the shard was.

Honeybee sidestepped Ladybug’s protective shield to use her whip again. In that instant, a well-aimed orb of energy hit her squarely in the chest.

Some instinct in the back of Ladybug’s mind kept her yo-yo spinning as a shield, but otherwise, Ladybug froze. Chat Noir had as well, but recovered quickly, and was bringing his elongated baton down like an ax. It hit the fox diagonally, across its spine, and the akuma yowled in response. Its attention was trained on Chat Noir now.

Honeybee responded to the hit quietly. It didn’t seem to burn like Ladybug remembered with the ichor. Neither was there a sharp intake of pain like when Honeybee had been bitten. Ladybug vaguely remembered that none of them had ever been successfully hit by a fireball before. They had no idea what the effects were. Honeybee was staring at the floor, gold circlet shining like a halo. Then, she looked up sharply and turned to face Ladybug.

Ladybug balked. Surrounding Honeybee’s eyes was an orange outline, glowing and shaped vaguely like a fox’s snout, but unmistakably related to its purple butterfly counterpart.

 

**Present Time**

The flashbacks were getting worse. Yeah, her mind always drifted at times, but not usually this much. Marinette took a few seconds to remind herself to breathe in the smell of cloth and air freshener, to remind herself the scissors in her hands weren’t her miraculous. At present, in a room full of other people, Tikki couldn’t help her directly.

Fashion and happy thoughts. A fashion of happy thoughts.

The nightmares were coming back again—there had been some right after they had defeated Hawkmoth—and she had thought she was getting better. Now they were creeping back and different, because there was just so much source material to cover. At times, it was hard to breathe and hard to dwell, and so what if she threw herself into work so that for a few, brief hours in each day she could just focus on what was immediately in front of her, without thinking about any of the pressing questions on the horizon? Adrien, Alya, Nino, Chloé, Sabrina, it’s what they all did.

 

An unexpected text jolted her back to the present.

**[Wendy Seighin @ 11h58]**

**Hey, I think I’m going to your school today.**

Alya and Wendy had gotten along well at the movies. Before the movies, the week before, Marinette hadn’t seen her since the Christmas gala, because Wendy had gone back to Australia for the holidays. Now Wendy was back for a long stint in Paris, or so she had told Marinette yesterday, when she’d stopped by her parents’ bakery out of curiosity.

**[Marinette Dupain-Cheng @ 12h01]**

**You think? What?**

 

Staring at her phone also reminded Marinette it was time for lunch.

 

**[Wendy Seighin @ 12h02]**

**UR studying at l’école rite?**

**[Marinette Dupain-Cheng @ 12h03]**

**Yeah, I’m here right now.**

 

She was. She was here and not anywhere else. She needed to remember that.

 

**[Wendy Seighin @ 12h04]**

**There’s that Workshop Q &A this afternoon. Fresh meat in both sides of the industry getting to meet type-thing? Yea, don’t tell UR skool, but the agency pulled things 2gether super last-min. Just found out I’ll be going to it, so I’ll C U 2nite.**

**[Marinette Dupain-Cheng @ 12h05]**

**Oh no, I completely forgot!!**

**[Wendy Seighin @ 12h06]**

**It’s ok. I mean, did your plans change?**

 

Right. Wendy had been out to dinner with Adrien and Clement last night. For fashion week, she had booked shows in Paris and Milan, but not London, and the three of them had been in Paris at the same time. Before the dinner, she and Marinette had been texting, and Marinette had mentioned she had nothing special going on except school. Scrolling through the history, Marinette saw it was just random stuff. Plans to see more movies, pictures of food and (Wendy’s) travels.  Most recently, Marinette had texted Wendy a picture of her breakfast, with Adrien, who had been taking his seat, a blur of motion in the background.

 

  **[Marinette Dupain-Cheng 12h10]**

**It’s no big deal. The thing is school mandated. I can choose not to go, but, really, I can’t. I’ll have to leave immediately after.**

**[Marinette Dupain-Cheng 12h11]**

**It’ll be fun. I’ll see you there.**

**[Wendy Seighin 12h12]**

**Sure**

Marinette headed to the cafeteria with the lunch her mother had graciously packed her. They were leftovers from yesterday’s dinner: white rice and five side dishes all mixed together.

“You’re more spacey than usual,” Willa said as she sat down next to Marinette and set her own lunch down on the table. “You didn’t seem to hear me at all when I called.”

“Just tired, probably,” Marinette said. “I just remembered the workshop we have later.”

“You mean the Q&A thing? Yeah, it seems interesting. Aren’t you excited?” Willa had a dreamy look in her eye. “Speaking of industry. Fashion Week. You have to give me more details.”

“I don’t know how much I can tell you,” Marinette said. I only went to one show.”

“Where you there when the akuma attack happened?” Willa asked eagerly.

“That was the third day I was there, when I was supposed to leave,” Marinette said. “I’d already gone to the show the previous day. It’s why I missed class Friday. It was good luck too. I heard the shows that day were all delayed.”

Marinette gave a scattered recount of what she had seen—just enough to finish half her lunch and then excused herself.

_How was London?_ Everyone kept asking, understandably. As she entered a bathroom stall and sat on a toilet seat cover, Tikki popped out of her tote bag.

“You did great, Marinette,” she said. “You’re doing great.”

**Two Days Ago**

“Now we know what the fireballs do,” Ladybug shouted out in warning to Chat Noir, who was engaged in combat with the shadow fox. She hoped Celeste had his com open and could hear her voice through it. She said the next sentence for his benefit. “Bee’s been akumatized. Keep the fox occupied. I’ll handle it”

“Got it,” Chat Noir said with a slight hitch in his voice as he continued to aggravate the fox by effectively evading its attacks.

Ladybug sprang a few meters backwards. Honeybee could only lengthen her whip so much before it was too heavy and difficult to control. Ladybug realized with a twist of her stomach that it was for that reason that Bee had stepped so close to the akuma to attack. She could have stayed back and played defense like she and Chat were doing, but she’d gone on the offensive and suffered the consequences. Would it have happened if Ladybug had gone on the offensive earlier? Ladybug swung out her yo-yo in a swift arc that grazed the akuma in the process of wrapping around Honeybee and binding her arms.

“Honeycomb!” The words were said simultaneously by multiple voices, Honeybee’s voice barely audible among the throng. Ladybug imagined she had sounded the same way when Tikki had taken full possession of her. Only Honeybee wasn’t glowing or channeling any of _Raafa’s_ energy.

Ladybug felt herself lifted off her feet and trapped from the waist down in a spiraling upward wave of gold ribbons. Since she couldn’t perform Lucky Charm without the upward motion of her yo-yo, Ladybug took a gamble. As soon as she released Honeybee, she thrust her yoyo up.

“Lucky Charm!”

 

Celeste arrived at the scene in that moment. “What are the girls up to?” He shouted.

“Energy orbs akumatize you, it turns out,” Chat Noir said with an edge to his voice. “Leave them to their cat fight, they’ll work it out.” He ducked behind a car to avoid more energy orbs. Around him were a handful of smoking, rusted cars that had already been used as shields. “Help, please.”

“Wind Tunnel!” The rain of energy orbs was halted as Celeste’s move wrapped around the akuma’s snout and sealed its mouth shut. Its eyes seethed in anger as it shook its head back and forth, trying to free itself from the muzzle.

“Thanks,” Chat Noir said as he used the opportunity to spring forward and vault himself onto the akuma’s back. He wrapped one arm around the creature’s neck and straddled it like he was planning to ride it bareback.

A bow and arrow dropped into Ladybug’s hands. It was a standard barebow recurve, the red and black polka dot ladybug motif present throughout, even in the string. The head of the arrow was vaguely in the shape of a heart. The arrow matched the bow.

Honeybee, having used her abilities, was unable to move her feet. She cracked her whip in a frustrated attempt to hit Ladybug, but because Ladybug had retreated, enough distance had been created between them for the whip come up short. Since the Honeycomb was blocking where Ladybug would usually place her yoyo, she quickly wrapped it around her non-dominant wrist, where it sat like an oversized watch. Ladybug nocked the arrow, drew the string back, and anchored the bow.

“C’mon Bee,” Ladybug called out in a firm voice. “I know you’re way too stubborn to not fight back. Snap out of it.” She fired.

 

A few meters to her right Celeste was furiously sending gusts of wind at the akuma, trying to box it in and prevent it from leaping away. In its confined space, it squirmed, but not enough to shake Chat Noir off.

 

“Cataclysm!” Chat Noir shot his attack in the area close to the crown of the skull. Once he made contact, he let go of the creature’s neck with the other hand and clawed the loosened shard out. As the shard was pressed into his palm, he started to lose his balance, slipping off. Chat frantically grasped for his baton with his free hand. “Let go, Blue!” Celeste obliged once he noticed what Chat was attempting.

Once he was holding it properly, Chat elongated his baton until it hit the ground and used it to lower himself. He glanced back at Celeste once his feet were planted. “Blue, keep the akuma contained.”

“What do you think I’ve been doing, dude?” responded Celeste.

Chat ran towards Ladybug.

 

The arrow sailed straight and true. Honeybee stepped back from the recoil, and Ladybug felt her bindings vanish around her. She braced herself for the fall, and although her ankles tingled with pain on impact, it was nothing she couldn’t shake off.

The arrow was protruding out of the center of Honeybee’s chest. The orange light around her eyes was gone. She was entirely back to herself again, staring down at the arrow in horror. “Was… I… akumatized?”

 

Ladybug ran forward. In that moment, she couldn’t help but see the girl behind the mask. The person she knew, and, for all her faults, now considered a trusted friend. Due to past behavior, Chloé had felt tentative about being a part of the team. Each person’s insecurity was inseparable from who they were as civilians. Ladybug supposed it was the same kind of doubt they all dealt with: wanting to constantly prove themselves, to improve, to show their gods they were worth choosing.

“Now we know what getting hit with fireballs does,” Ladybug said with a grimace. Ladybug put a hand on Honeybee’s arm. The other arm had her bow slung up her shoulder and her yoyo still tied to her wrist. “Don’t worry. You trapped me with Honeycomb and that was it. I got out alright.” She used the hand that wasn’t on Honeybee’s arm to grab the arrow still stuck in her chest. Ladybug looked straight into Honeybee’s pale eyes. “Do you trust me?”

“Of course,” Honeybee nodded without missing a beat.

Ladybug yanked out the arrow.

And… nothing. There was no blood, no gasp of pain. Honeybee still looked ghostly, like her brain was on rewind trying to fill in the gaps. Ladybug theorized the arrow head had been shot into the quantic realm to purify the akuma’s influence. She put the arrow in Honeybee’s hands.

“I trust you too,” Ladybug said firmly. “That fact hasn’t changed.”

Honeybee furrowed her brows and looked off to the side like she didn’t quite believe it.

Before Ladybug could say anything else, Chat Noir approached them with the shard. He reassured Honeybee about behind akumatized just as Ladybug had earlier.

Ladybug dropped the shard into her yo-yo without even untangling it from her wrist. “De-evilize.” It took a few more minutes to unwind the string. By the time she had done so, Celeste had come to join them and the akuma had vanished entirely.

“Miraculous Ladybug!” The extensive damage the akuma had done to Tower Bridge, along with what other bits of London the akuma had destroyed, was repaired.

The group split up. Celeste and Chat Noir went to one side of the bridge, while Honeybee and Ladybug went to the other. Chat Noir was the one who told the police that the akuma had been destroyed. (The police would start letting tourists back on the bridge in half an hour, after a perimeter check.)

The girls responded to the press as quickly as possible, each hearing their miraculous objects beep during their airtime. “Further information will be given in an exclusive interview,” Ladybug blurted out. “Please check the Ladyblog, run by Alya Césaire.”

Chloé laughed after the two had disappeared and de-transformed. “Alya is going to love you forever.”

“Alya already loves me forever,” Marinette answered. “Have you gotten an email yet about today’s schedule—crap!”

“What?”

“I left my phone on a roof somewhere,” Marinette said. “I have to go get it.”

 

**Present Time**

That had been London. They had come back okay.

Milan was next. It was off schedule (again), but they all could tell. Master Fu predicted that if Sabrina being in Hong Kong was enough to trigger the akuma, Adrien heading to Milan as per Gabriel Agreste’s summons would have the same effect. Adrien was scheduled to take a late-afternoon flight and get to a dinner by 8pm, before taking a red-eye back so he wouldn’t miss class. He would get into the city around 6pm. Marinette hoped he’d at least have time to check into his hotel before the akuma formed.

When lunch ended, Marinette wanted to bolt. To head back to the apartment and wait for the time to return to the Labyrinth. Instead, she headed back to the atelier and, when it was time, to one of the larger auditoriums on the ground floor of the school, where the event was to be held.

Before heading through the door, Marinette scrawled her name on a “Hello, my name is” sticker, which she stuck on the pink blazer she was wearing. She hadn’t been paying too much attention when getting dressed this morning, and was relieved that the blazer made her outfit business-casual and dress-code appropriate.

She sat next to her groupmates and waited for the talk to begin. It would go from 3 to 4pm, with an hour after to socialize and network. Willa had saved her the aisle seat.

“Never got to ask what happened at lunch,” Willa whispered ten minutes before the show was set to start. “You ran off pretty quickly.”

“I got distracted texting,” Marinette lied. She was fairly certain it was a terrible lie, but Juan and Valerie backed her up, unexpectedly.

“We’ve all been there,” Valerie nodded.

“I spent the last hour in the studio on YouTube,” Juan confessed. They all giggled as Marinette heard a voice from behind her.

“Afternoon, Marinette.” It was Wendy, wrapped up in a coat and scarf with her hair in a ponytail.

“You made it!” Marinette smiled and made introductions as the lights dimmed and the talk started.

The speaker was a fashion magazine editor, who was in her late twenties. She talked about how she broke into the industry, and what she learned working with both models and designers. The main take-away from the talk, aside from outlining what went into making a spread, was that ‘networking was key.’ So here they were. After the speaker, there were five panelists there to answer questions, including the magazine editor. The others were a casting agent, a department store buyer, a design-fellow for a major brand, and a creative director. Not unexpectedly, the Q&A session spilled over by half an hour. Which left half an hour for whatever networking the attendees wanted to do.

As soon as her groupmates got the chance, they turned towards Marinette and Wendy. “So how do you know Marinette, Wendy?” Juan asked once people had started milling around.

“Oh, her boyfriend introduced us,” Wendy said.

“Boyfriend?” Willa asked. They had talked frequently, but the topic had never come up.

“Yeah, her boyfriend.” Before she could finish supplying a name, Marinette did a not-so-subtle motion slashing her hand across her throat. Wendy caught on. “Then, we worked on a project together. I was her model. Marinette designed this beautiful suit. It won second place in a design contest.”

“What suit?” Willa, along with Juan and a few others, had their attention diverted, and Marinette explained the suit and show them a picture. Juan was the most involved, asking about the patterning and calculations for possible mass production.

“It’s haute couture for a reason,” Marinette said. “Not everything has to be patterned out.” As she held her phone in her hand, she stared at the timestamp in the corner. 17h38. Adrien would have landed in Italy an hour ago. He would be on the train to the hotel. It took 52 minutes to get to the city center from the airport. (She’d checked.) She hoped the akuma wouldn’t activate on the way.

“Yeah,” Willa teased. “Some are draped.”

“That’s fine and all, but there are some people I want to get to, so excuse me,” Valerie said as she squeezed past the auditorium seats to the aisle. Everyone moved aside so Valerie could get through. As she side-stepped, Marinette kicked her own tote bag. Her eyes widened as her wallet, her charger, and her pencil case slid down to the next row. Luckily, Tikki was still hidden.

“Oh, sorry,” Valerie said, turning back.

“No, it’s my fault.” Marinette handed her phone to Wendy and hopped down one step to shove everything back in her bag. “You guys go ahead,” she said. “I have to leave right now anyway.” She peaked inside her bag as she was putting the last item, her pencil case, back in, and saw Tikki nod dizzily.

As she rose and dusted herself off, Marinette saw that Val was already on the other side of the room, engaged in conversation with three people, but Juan and Willa were looking at her, perplexed.

“No, you always do this!” Juan sighed. “Where are you even running off to?”

She was being rude. She was going to be so rude to future industry contacts and, well, her friends. They would be baffled, at the very least, and dramatic for certain. What could she say? It was a family emergency? Except Wendy knew her parents were her only immediate family in the area, and she had been to the bakery in the morning. Wendy had texted Marinette what she had bought, which had prompted her own food pic response.

“Food poisoning.” She blurted out on the spot. Wendy looked at her in confusion, because she could tell Marinette was lying. Marinette might have to burn a bridge. Marinette quickly looked between Willa and Wendy, and grabbed Wendy’s wrist, the one that was not holding her phone.

“Come with me,” Marinette spoke as she rushed up the stairs and out the door. Wendy, to her credit, allowed herself to be dragged along because Marinette sounded frantic.

“Please help me sell it,” she pleaded once the auditorium door closed behind them and they were outside. “Tell them I suddenly came down with terrible food poisoning. Diarrhea, whatever, the whole bit. Please.”

“Why?”

Marinette released Wendy’s wrist and stood three steps back. “I really do have to go. Oh, everything is such a mess. Please.”

Wendy looked entirely out of her element. She must have known two things for certain: Marinette was lying, and it was important. “Fine, go. I’ll give you the worse food poisoning ever.”

“Oh, thank you!” Marinette gave Wendy two pecks on each cheek, reflexively, before turning around and running away. She turned at the next hallway, which was empty, because everyone on the ground floor was by the auditorium except for her. The hallway ended at an unlocked window. Tikki leapt out of her bag as Marinette sped towards the window.

“Sorry I kicked you earlier. Are you okay?” Marinette asked.

“Fine, but you’re running late.”

“I know, I know. Tikki, _transforme-moi._ ”

“Marinette, your phone, you forgot…” Wendy stumbled on her French. She had turned the hallway seconds into Marinette’s transformation and stared like a deer caught in headlights. “Marinette. Are you…”

Ladybug backed into the window, her hand scrambling to find the latch. “I really do have to go. Please, I’ll explain when I have time, which I don’t right now.”

“Okay.” Wendy’s voice was small, solemn and laced with shock.

Ladybug pulled the window open as Wendy stepped closer. “Ladybug.” She said the words like they’d taken her breath away. Ladybug flinched and turned in a panic.

“Your phone?” Wendy held it out, offering it to her cautiously. Ladybug grabbed the phone although she knew she was going to have to leave it in the Labyrinth, as she had already transformed. “Thanks,” she said automatically as she glanced at it. Two message notifications had popped up while Wendy had still been holding it. The model’s French may have been good enough now she could have read them at a glance. The messages, though vague on their own, were pretty affirming considering what Wendy had just witnessed. Ladybug shot out her yo-yo and leapt out the window.

 

** Press & Co. **

**[Alya Césaire @ 17h49]**

**Akuma activated like, basically now**

** M.U. **

**[Master Fu @ 17h49]**

**Get to Milan ASAP**


	24. Milan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The penultimate piece of the necklace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would like to thank everyone for the absolutely incredible amount of love and support you've shown this story.
> 
> If all goes as planned, there will be 2 chapters left after this one.  
> Enjoy!

Plagg warned him beforehand. “Beforehand” being a relative term, as the kwami’s disgruntled sigh and all-encompassing “sorry,” gave Adrien a few seconds to figure out the best course of action.

He had breezed through the arrival gate and past baggage claim as he only had one carry on. It was a black duffle bag filled with snacks and some clothes. From the airport, Adrien had caught the next express train headed to the city center. Adrien wasn’t so famous that a black cap and sunglasses couldn’t disguise him as another traveler in a rush. As a precaution, and because it was the way Gabriel Agreste did things, Adrien had been provided with a private compartment anyway. Once he was at the city center, a car would be waiting for him to take him to the hotel.

Plagg’s warning came as the loudspeaker on the train announced they would be arriving soon in multiple languages.

“Now?” Adrien hissed to the kwami in the bag slung across his shoulder.

“Just about.”

Adrien fished his phone out of his pocket as he felt the train slow down. There were fewer people by the private compartments, so exiting the train wouldn’t be an issue. Adrien reminded himself that once he was outside he would have to slip his ticket through the gate and walk in a composed manner, instead of high-tailing it like he wanted to. His fingers flew across the keypad. The numbers in the corner informed him he had gotten to Milan quite early, which would inconvenience everyone else.

 

**[Adrien Agreste @ 17h45]**

**Very soon, Plagg says.**

 

Some more context might have been helpful, but Alya seemed to understand perfectly.

 

**[Alya Césaire @17h46]**

**Drat. I’ll alert the others.**

 

“You still have to get away from the station to transform,” Plagg said. His voice sounded garbled, as if he were chewing. “Somewhere without cameras.”

Adrien spent the next minute swallowed in the rush of people exiting the platform. One hand clung tightly to his shoulder strap as the other held his phone. As the ticket machines came into view, Adrien’s phone buzzed. His Newsfeed and Twitter simultaneously reported an akuma attack. Adrien gritted his teeth. He needed to find the akuma. He needed to transform. With a pang, he realized the car was waiting for him, the chauffer holding a sign that said _Monday Company Car_ instead of his name for security reasons.

 It would take ten, fifteen minutes tops to get to the hotel. A couple more minutes to check in, to get to his room, and to drop off his stuff, without looking like he was in a panicked rush. This demon could probably shoot fireballs. How much damage could it do in fifteen, twenty minutes?

As Adrien neared the main exit, he slipped into the bathroom and locked himself into a stall. Adrien unzipped his bag. His pressed-clean suit and pajamas were packed in a large pouch Marinette had sewn from spare cloth. Pocky sticks, circles of cheese, and a Ritter Sport bar filled up the rest of the space. The tinfoil wrapper from two eighths of a cheese wheel was strewn around Plagg, who looked up at him and burped.

“Get into my pocket. I have a plan.” Adrien grabbed three eighths of cheese wrapped in tinfoil and shoved them in his other pocket, along with his phone. Adrien flushed the toilet and washed his hands to keep up the pretense, and met the chauffer in front of the station. Although it had been clear in Paris, the sky here was dark grey.

“I’m Adrien Agreste,” he said as they shook hands. “It’s nice to meet you, sir. If you could please take my bag to the hotel. I know where it is, and I can get there on my own. I want to do some exploring on my own before dinner.”

The chauffer shot him a confused look, but tipped his hat anyway. “As you wish, sir,” he responded in heavily accented French. Which accent it was, Adrien couldn’t be bothered to figure out as headed to the nearest corner, and turned out of the man’s line of sight.

Adrien’s phone buzzed three times before he found an opportunity to transform without being seen a minute later.

As Chat Noir, he scaled the nearest building and stood on the roof. Instinctively, he reached for his baton, and the communicator mechanism flashed to life.

Master Fu as the Guardian and Celeste were already on the line. Chat saw Alya’s face on Celeste’s communicator. “Can you track the shard?” Alya’s question was directed at Chat Noir.

“I was just about to.”

“We’ll be heading in from Paris now,” Celeste said from off screen. “See you in like five, ten minutes tops.”

Chat Noir shut off his communicator because channeling Plagg. Tracking the shard required single-minded focus. He closed his eyes and his cat ears folded over.

He’d been to Milan enough times that, to get an accurate number, he would have had to count on his hands. When he wasn’t there, he remembered the place like an abstract concept, with random details preserved in snapshots. He remembered the bikes that lined one street, and the impression of cobblestones in another. A gelato place his mother had sworn by, even though it was so close to the Piazza Duomo that it was a tourist trap. Every time Chat returned to a place he had been, it was like re-reading a wonderful book.

Chat had never looked at Milan with an akuma in mind. The half-familiar streets swirled around him like the sights of the high-speed train he had ridden less than an hour ago. He scanned over the Piazza Duomo, where the entrance to the Labyrinth flared. The usual street market was replaced by white tents, camera crews, and people with carefully curated outfits walking around outside between shows. Chat assumed the other miraculous holders would have to navigate the industry crowds once they arrived. He made a note to warn the others in advance, if he got the chance. Chat’s awareness pushed passed the city center, using the cathedral as his main marker. He widened the perimeter of the search until he sensed another flare. The fox’s energy was far in the distance, and getting dimmer, but the other-worldly energy was unmistakable. It made his hair stand up. Chat Noir shot straight down the street via rooftop. The buildings were much more level than the ones in London or New York, which made traveling quicker.

The akuma made a sharp turn and Chat Noir followed, realizing exactly where he was running towards. He halted suddenly and stopped channeling Plagg to reach for his communicator. He hunched over the device, momentarily disoriented by the bright screen after the world had been all muted colors and shadows for the last few minutes. _Head for Castello Sforzesco. Try to enter through the side,_ Chat Noir typed. Even if the team’s knowledge of Milan’s streets wouldn’t be sufficient, the signs around the city should be. He blinked once the message was sent, and channel Plagg again.

_Oh._

_Well._

_How inconvenient._

Chat dashed towards the castle that loomed in red-brick splendor over the grass.

The courtyard of Castello Sforzesco, like the space outside the Piazza Duomo, had been taken over by fashion week. The Duomo and the Castle were ventures open to the public. Grass was grown over in the trenches where the moat used to be. Since he was in costume, Chat Noir was able to scale up the wall too quickly for anyone to try to stop him. He climbed over and onto the inner walkway. As Chat ran along the walkway, he caught a glimpse of the military police and private security guards in sunglasses across the courtyard and throughout the larger park. There were also crew members dressed in all black with headsets and clipboards trying not to bump heads with the tourists coming to see the castle. One of them took a long took at Chat and mumbled something about _cosplayers_ and _people taking fashion week too seriously._ Chat stifled a chuckle and weaved through the parade of visitors.

Chat Noir (or, technically, Adrien) had been inside the castle three times. The first time had been with his mother. If he remembered correctly, the inside of the complex was a museum that sometimes felt like a maze. The fox was scampering around inside, but to where, exactly, Chat had trouble discerning. There were too many people nearby, and the clear, orange glow he was following flickered out like an old lightbulb.

Chat felt a vibration up his arm and realized his baton was going off. He let go of the tracking to grab his baton and open it to the com. Celeste’s face popped onto the screen. “We’re here,” Celeste said. “Dude, where are you?” Ladybug and Honeybee stood behind him.

“I just got here too. How’d you arrive so quickly?”

“We took the side streets. Can you get to the northeast entrance? There are guards waiting for us.”

Just as Chat was about to ask what exactly Celeste meant, someone tapped him on the shoulder. It was a white-haired man in a blazer. He spoke in broken French. “Northeast. This way.”

Celeste noticed the interaction. “Yeah, Bee convinced the staff to send a guy.”

The tour guide walked at a break-neck pace. They breezed through a wing of the museum and flights of stairs. Startled guests watched them go, and a few pulled out their phones, but everyone cleared out of the way. The tour guide lead Chat Noir out and around to where the other miraculous users were waiting. The tour guide spoke into his walkie-talkie in rapid Italian as Chat Noir ran to join the others.

“Great, you’re here,” Ladybug said as the security guard standing with them started walking, gesturing for the group to follow. His French was slightly accented, but grammatically perfect. “There have been sightings of a small fox creature this way,” he said. “We are trying to keep the area clear, for the safety of the guests.”

The guard led them away from the spacious gallery and down more steps. The surroundings turned from renovated plaster walls to the red bricks that matched the exterior of the castle. They passed a narrow door fenced-off with a chain. The chain had a piece of paper taped to it with “No Entry” hastily scrawled on it in five different languages, one of which should have been French, but the skinny, slanted print was nearly illegible. Some of the steps they walked down were so old they caved in slightly at the center.

The group reached a room with doors that directly faced each other. The room itself was circular, and the doors of blackened iron were open all the way to touch the outside wall. Stepping into the room meant stepped single-file onto a thin walkway with metal railings. When Ladybug looked down, she saw a sheer seven meter drop down. When she looked up, she saw a few streams of light coming through slits near the high ceiling.

“This place used to be a dungeon, huh?” Celeste guessed.

“It did,” the guard said. “And there…” he pointed to a shadow in the dark. Their akuma was scratching the walls and howling. As the guard pointed, the akuma turned its head and inhaled deeply.

Honeybee reacted first by barreling past the rest of the team and shoving the security guard across the bridge until he was clear of the room. “Stay there, and don’t come in until its safe,” she commanded.

The fireball had made a smoking hole in the bottom of the bridge, which everyone else had also dodged.

“We’re easy targets here.” Chat Noir lengthened his baton and channeled Plagg again. How had the fox fallen into the pit? Had it set a trap for them, or did one of the castle guards actually push the creature off the bridge?

Ladybug struck out her yo-yo and latched it onto the railing of the bridge. “We should level the field then,” Ladybug said. She jumped over the railing and lowered herself to the ground. The akuma greeted her with a blast of energy she side-stepped to avoid. Behind her, Chat Noir grabbed Honeybee around the waist. Honeybee put her arms around his neck and Chat lowered them both to the ground. Celeste was already there when they touched down thanks to the power of flight.

“The shard is in its underbelly,” Chat Noir said. “Right at the surface of the skin.” He dodged as the akuma sprung at him. Having missed, the akuma pounced onto the walls and back again. It ricocheted like a rubber ball in its cylindrical space of confinement. Celeste tried slowing it down with gusts of wind but kept missing.

“Cataclysm!” Chat Noir shouted. He waited, glowing eyes watching for the blur of shadow, ears perking up each time the fox hit the walls, and slammed the dark orb in his hand straight into the fox. It neutralized the energy from the akuma’s incoming fireball, and the force knocked the trajectory of Chat’s hand to the side so that it grazed the side of the akuma’s face, its neck, shoulders, and part of its torso, until Cataclysm fizzled out.

The attack seemed only to anger the akuma further. Everyone ducked and dodged as a bunch of fireballs shot out.

“Honeycomb!” Streak after streak of gold light shot out from Bee’s whip like bullets. Chat Noir had gotten accustomed to seeing Honeycomb used in one big thunder-clap of movement. Now, the superpower was being used to create small bursts of light, one after the other. From what Chat understood about the mechanics of the ability, one “move” counted from when Honeycomb was being shot out from the blunt end of the whip to when it stopped. If Honeybee didn’t stop shooting, she could continue to. Once she stopped, the move would be over. Honeybee had talked about it, in theory.

The akuma squinted and stumbled around, confused.

Celeste seemed to have a hard time with the strobe light effect as well. “I can barely see,” he remarked.

Honeybee continued with her attack. “What happened to instinct?” She taunted.

Celeste squared his shoulders at the challenge. Chat saw him close his eyes as he himself continued to dodge (both the akuma and the friendly fire), and Ladybug prepared her own yo-yo.

Celeste aimed his staff. “Wind Tunnel.”

“Lucky Charm!” A giant block of salt water taffy dropped into Ladybug’s hands. It did not look very edible, given the ladybug motif it had, but it did look sticky.

“Nice job, Celeste!” Chat called as Celeste enveloped the akuma in a swirling mini-cyclone without it touching anyone else. Celeste’s eyes were still closed, even as Bee stopped shooting Honeycomb.

“Throw it towards your 11 o’clock!” Ladybug instructed the peacock miraculous holder. She caught Chat Noir’s eye and motioned with her head to have him come over to where she was standing.

“You can open your eyes now,” Honeybee offered.

Chat Noir grabbed one side of the taffy while Ladybug held the opposite end. Chat Noir nodded at her and they both backed way, stretching out the taffy slightly as the distance between them grew.

Honeybee was whipping each fireball that the akuma spat out, popping them like bubbles even as her circlet started to flicker. Chat Noir’s ring was beeping too. Celeste, rather viciously rammed the akuma, yowling and struggling, into the taffy.

“I’m going to let go,” Ladybug said as yanked one hand, and then the other, off the taffy. She stumbled back a few steps as she did so. Her hands were somehow free of the candy. Chat Noir noticed she looked relieved, but wary.

Celeste released Wind Tunnel, and as the akuma took a few shaking steps to its feet, its face and teeth caught in taffy, Ladybug bent down and saw the shard. It was another one that was sticking out like a large splinter. She plucked the shard out with her hands and dropped it into her yo-yo.

“De-evilize,” she said. Chat Noir held the taffy awkwardly in his hands as the akuma dissolved away. Ladybug giggled as she spoke to Chat. “You don’t have to throw the item, just hold it above your head. Miraculous Ladybug!”

The taffy lit up and vanished as a swarm of ladybugs appeared and flew up to repair the damage done to the bridge.

“It could have gone a lot worse,” Chat Noir said with a cheerful grin. His ring beeped even more incessantly. “How about we retransform so the cat doesn’t get let out of the bag?”

In the bottom of a pit that was formerly a dungeon, Chat Noir de-transformed. He gave Plagg most of the cheese he had pocketed earlier. The others, who had also de-transformed, were similarly making use of their own supply of recharge food.

The four of them re-transformed and made their way to the repaired bridge overhead, Honeybee getting assistance from Celetse. They crossed to the other side. The guard Honeybee had steered out was waiting apprehensively.

“It is safe now,” Ladybug said in Italian. “The akuma is gone.” The guard used his flashlight to check. As they crossed back over the bridge the guard confirmed the pit was empty and the fox defeated, into his walkie-talkie. He emerged from the room with a relieved look on his face.

“Thank you very much, heroes,” he said. He seemed to hesitate, and then turned off his flashlight. He took out his phone from his pocket as they exited to aboveground. “Oh, and may I get a picture to show my grandchildren?”

“Oh, sure,” Honeybee said. The group chimed in agreement behind her. The guard, who introduced himself as Matteo, looked nearly giddy as he snapped a photo in the early evening light. Matteo proceeded to inform them that museum visiting hours has ended and the tents had been closed, but the park would still be open for a while. A few more grounds staff approached them to ask for pictures or shake their hands. As the quantic squad made their way through the grounds, Chat Noir felt someone yank his tail. He turned to look at Ladybug.

“You have to go,” Ladybug reminded him. “The event.”

“Don’t worry dude,” Celeste said.

“We’ll handle the press.” Honeybee was already walking to the vans. “Meet up after.”

As Celeste and Ladybug moved to follow Honeybee, Chat Noir put a hand on Ladybug’s shoulder. “Wait. Can you come with me?”

Ladybug wordlessly turned, and Celeste’s eyes flickered toward them briefly, but he shrugged and kept moving.

With the tilt of his head Chat Noir gestured for them to exit the park. They ran in separate directions, de-transformed, and met outside. At that point, it had started drizzling slightly.

“What’s up?” Marinette asked curiously when they reached each other on the street. “Don’t you have to get back to your hotel and then go to the dinner?”

Chat Noir ignored the question as they started walking back to central station. If Adrien remembered correctly, his hotel was on the other side. “LB, what’s wrong?”

Marinette’s face crumpled. So he hadn’t been imagining it. Ladybug has been oddly quiet during battle. Efficient and effective without a doubt, but acting a bit off. Marinette blinked at him, and seemed to be remembering how to form words, so Adrien skipped ahead to a corner shop, where he purchased a 5-euro black umbrella. The shopkeeper looked unsurprised when he asked the tag be cut.

Marinette had caught up to him by the time he exited the shop. Adrien opened the umbrella and they continued walking under it. “Adrien, the thing starts in half an hour,” Marinette said.

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“Today was a rough day.” Marinette said. “I couldn’t concentrate. I kept remembering London. I spent a large part of lunch hiding in the bathroom. Most of my classmates think I came down with food poisoning.” Marinette slid her fingers through his. They walked holding hands until they reached the next crosswalk. As they waited for the walk signal, Marinette off-handedly added. “Wendy saw me transform.”

“What?”

Marinette squeezed his hand and pulled him across the street as the light turned green. Adrien remembered Wendy had texted him about seeing Marinette today at some networking stunt. To be fair, their entire industry was built on who people knew, and whose talent was recognized. “Into Ladybug,” Marinette clarified in a low whisper. “I was trying to get away from school, but not before she saw me.”

“That’s… okay, um.” Adrien’s shoulder slumped, and the motion caused him to hit himself on the head with the inside of the umbrella. Marinette, being much shorter, was safe. A smile quirked up on her face.

“I don’t think she would tell, but I can call Wendy and let her know how important this is,” Adrien offered. “About how it all be kept a secret.”

Marinette shook her head. “What if she figures out your link to it all?”

“It’ll be fine.”

Marinette squared her shoulders back and took a deep breath. “It will, but I’ll handle it. Thank you, Adrien.” She took a sharp turn and dragged them into an empty, narrow alley. “Get to that dinner now. I don’t want the miraculouses to interfere too much with our normal lives.”

“Our lives are far from normal.” Adrien smiled shyly. “I’ll keep my phone out.” He bent down and kissed her briefly before handing the umbrella off. Once Marinette was gone, Plagg flew out of his pocket.

“You’re out of cheese,” the kwami informed Adrien right before he transformed.

“I’ll keep you updated,” Marinette said as she stepped back from Chat Noir. She was all sharp focus and rock-solid resolve again. “I’m going to find the others. Have fun trying really hard to be charming.”

“Hey, I am charming!” Chat Noir defended.

Marinette smirked like she didn’t believe him for a second. Her laughter carried through the pitter-platter of the rain as she turned out of the alley.

Getting to the venue on time involved terse conversations with hotel staff, pocketing the two room keys he received, and being in the hotel room for about two minutes before turning back around and heading to the car waiting for him. It was just enough time to grab what he needed out of his bag and swipe the chocolate they left under the pillows.

“I’m going to change in the car,” Adrien explained to the chauffer when he tipped his hat out at Adrien and opened the door. He had just finished getting dressed when the car pulled up the venue (a ballroom of another fancy hotel).

The evening meal was standard procedure: _hors d’oeuvres_ before a soup, fish, salad, entrée, and dessert. The dessert, a dark chocolate mousse, was by far his favorite course. He made pleasant conversation with a fashion editor who sat in his proximity who he had met before, and a buyer and a photographer who he hadn’t. _Marinette would appreciate this far more than me,_ Adrien thought. Their lives weren’t normal, but they were theirs. Adrien wasn’t sure how much he would change, if he could, except to make things easier on everyone. Marinette seemed to be fraying at the edges a bit, but then she had pushed through. It was her nature. It was all she had ever done. She had mentioned not wanting the miraculouses to interfere too much with their “normal” lives, but all Adrien wanted at that moment was to be wearing a mask. The constant reminder of the day’s events didn’t help.

Word had spread about Paris’ masked heroes appearing in Milan. No one had been hurt, and the shadow-demon-creature that always seemed to accompany their international appearances was even more elusive than the heroes themselves.

“I would cover them for a spread, but they been done so many times at this point,” someone at the table said.

“If those vigilantes get yet another team member, it would be reason to cover them again,” the photographer sitting (Lucas, he had introduced himself as) across from Adrien joked. Lucas turned to Adrien. “You know, you’d fit, for Chat Noir. You’ve got the blonde hair and the build.”

“Like I haven’t heard that one before,” Adrien scoffed lightly. “As would most of the models that fall into my ‘type.’ I went as him for Halloween once. Someone told me my costume was off.” Except it hadn’t been a costume. More accurate, it hadn’t been an imitation costume. He had been legitimately running around as Chat Noir, fighting the akuma-of-the-week with Ladybug and Celeste (Honeybee had yet to join), when his “costume” was called “nice, but missing something.”

Lucas and the others laughed. The conversation soon turned to everyone’s most extravagant Halloween costumes. The buyer, who was an American, recalled memories of going door-to-door for candy. The others listened, fascinated.

“You knock on your neighbors,’ and, on that one day, everyone actually has candy to give?” Lucas asked, incredulous. “What if they aren’t home? What if you don’t like that neighbor? Are people actually okay with wearing costumes outside of the street parades and the parties?”

As discussion of differing holiday traditions continued, Adrien felt his phone vibrate.

 

**[Marinette Dupain-Cheng @ 21h39]**

**Can I get the spare keycard? I’m by the bathrooms on the third floor, past the fancy Japanese restaurant.**

 

Adrien assumed she meant keycard to the place he was staying, and third floor of the building he was presently in. He excused himself, passed off the keycard without being seen, and returned for the remainder of the evening. Which was why, around 11PM, when he returned to his own suite, he was unsurprised to see Marinette, Nino, and Chloé there. Chloé was napping on the couch, while Nino and Marinette were watching old Eurovision performances on Nino’s phone.

“Hi?” Adrien grabbed his bag off the floor and headed into the bedroom to change. He wanted to ask if Marinette had heard from Wendy, if she had transformed into Ladybug again that night, if he had missed anything during the dinner, which seemed miniscule given the present circumstances. There was always so much to say.

“It was as Master Fu feared,” Marinette informed him. She was continuing the rushed conversation they had had when she had waltzed in and out of the hotel to pick up the keycard.

( _We’ll be staying here for the time being,_ Marinette had explained. _If something does happen soon, I want the four of us to get there together. Master Fu says, because that was the penultimate piece, the last one may activate unexpectedly, as they have been prone to lately anyway._ )

Adrien emerged from the room in a T-shirt and khakis. “Now?”

“Not yet, but it’d going to, very soon,” Marinette said.

Nino adjusted his glasses. “Either it activates and we rush to get there, hoping it hasn’t done too much damage, or we get there and it activates.”

Adrien caught sight of the kwami, who were all floating around the coffee table. There were grocery bags full of snacks, including recharge food, tipped over across the glass top. “Let’s go to Shanghai, then,” Adrien said.


	25. Shanghai

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The final piece of the necklace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is: the penultimate chapter. Sorry for the delay >.< Lots of love to all my readers. I can't believe it's almost over...

Chapter 25: Shanghai

It was close to daybreak when the Quantic Squad arrived. Unfortunately, they didn’t beat the early-bird pedestrians, or the akuma. They were _so close_ too. Chat Noir could feel it with whatever version of spidey-senses Plagg gave him. The fox had formed mere seconds before their arrival. Civilians looked dazed, but no one was severely injured. Judging by their surroundings, they were in the middle of a shopping district. A crack in a road was the only structural damage so far, but the odds of it remaining that way were diminishing fast. The creature’s orange eyes gave Chat chills as they flickered past him, and he instinctually dove out of the way.

_Whoosh!_

His right arm was bleeding. The fox’s barred fang had barely nicked his catsuit, but this one had been so fast, it seemed to morph into a blur of dark shadow when it moved. It was scaled up to a meter in height, and it had left a trail of crumpled gravel where it had accelerated. Everyone was speeding away, giving them as wide a breadth as possible.

“Honeycomb!” Chat heard Bee yell from somewhere behind him as he veered out of the way of a fireball. Golden walls rose around them, forming a circle with narrow doorways on four sides like the points on a compass. The walls blocked off all but the nearest buildings. There were still a few people within their now-determined ring of combat. Chat ran to help them get out as Ladybug and Celeste batted the akuma. An old man mumbled at him at what Chat assumed was Shanghainese, because it certainly wasn’t the textbook Mandarin he was tutored in. Once he was sure all the civilians were cleared from the area, Chat turned his attention back to the battle.

Ladybug and Celeste were dodging the fox, who was using the walls to rocket back and fourth like a pinball. The way they danced around, Chat realized the pair were actively drawing the akuma’s attention away from Honeybee. Gusts of wind from Celeste slowed it down some, but its energy seemed boundless. Ladybug tried to strike it down with whacks from her yo-yo, but out of three swings, only one made contact, barely. Chat stumbled back as a rush of shadow gave his left arm goosebumps, and he swore he heard his ears pop.

 

There was nothing like the immediacy of battle to get Ladybug to stop worrying about anything and everything else. No problem but the one they were trying to keep literally contained existed. Her yo-yo kept missing. If only she could anticipate where the fox would be…

_Whack._

The yo-yo string went taunt as it looped around the shadow’s neck like a lasso. Ladybug was so surprised by her success she froze—and fumbled in her second’s hesitation. The string burned as it slipped through her hands.

Cracks in the wall appeared simultaneously with Honeybee’s scream. About a quarter of the golden, opaque structure crumbled away, revealing a few alarmed civilians and TV crews. Fractures were spreading across the remaining wall like vines. Ladybug caught a glimpse of Chat keeping the demon at bay with his baton.  Honeybee stood rigid as blood dropped from her left shoulder. _No time for our usual tricks,_ Ladybug thought.

“Wind Tunnel!”

The world around them swirled as the air felt raw against her skin. At least the demon moved slow enough now that its shape was solid. Celeste was perched on the top of the wall, trying to manipulate the winds immediately surrounding Volpina with his staff like a puppet master. Honeybee and the rest of them were just caught in the blowback. How long could Celeste maintain such a large cyclone?  
Ladybug shouted against the howling wind. “Lucky charm!” When she said the literal magic words, she was usually resigned to work with whatever the gods threw into her hands. This time, she said the words with surety. It wasn’t a request. It was a demand. She knew exactly what she wanted—needed—to fall from the sky. In this case, Tikki did not disappoint.  
Inside the ladybug-patterned sack were bandages, gauze pads, magic salve, and some version of ambrosia to prevent fainting from blood loss. Hugging the special-request first aid kit against her chest, she leapt over to Honeybee. Her attention flickered around toward Chat, but he hadn’t noticed Ladybug yet.

Bee’s willpower was currently the only thing holding the walls up. The girl let out a grateful sigh as Ladybug made quick work of her shoulder.  
“I have a plan,” Ladybug shouted over the wind as she fed to the other miraculous holder what was assumed to be ladybug-patterned ambrosia and applied the salve. Honeybee, too tired to talk, listened to the 15-second rundown.

“Insane,” Honeybee sputtered after what felt like hours, though it had only been seconds.  
“Have you tried controlling the broken pieces of honeycomb, even slightly?”  
“I can.”

  
As Ladybug finished playing nurse, Chat Noir caught her eye. Ladybug stepped back from Honeybee, and tilted her head slightly. Her red ribbon and tendrils of black hair whipped wildly around her face in the wind. Chat Noir nodded. Ladybug spun 180 degrees and ran. Chat reacted to the obscure signals the way Ladybug had banked on. He chased after her.

They fled to an alley near the border of Honeybee's wall.

“I know where to take Volpina so that no more damage to the city occurs, but you’re not going to like it,” Ladybug said in a rush once Chat was in earshot. “We’ve been there before.”  
Chat Noir gaped. “How?”  
“How it started. Higher possession. This time, with the two of us.” Ladybug offered her hands. She was watching what she could of the battleground: the winds they were teetering in, Celeste overhead with a death grip on his staff, Honeybee a statue as gold debris started swirling around.

“Yes or no? Five seconds. Decide.”

“I’m not letting you go by yourself if I can help it.”  
They clasped hands as Ladybug began the invocation.  
\--

 

Alya had long put any news of Paris’ heroes on alert on her phone. Most of the time, the team’s whereabouts did not surprise her. London hadn’t. Milan hadn’t. Even Shanghai, she had been forewarned about by a call from Master Fu, and by a terse, coded message in the group chat.

It was the middle of the night (morning) in Paris now, and she should have gone to sleep hours ago. Instead, she had called Sabrina because she needed someone to scream with.

Sabrina and Alya talked over each other as the news broadcast livestreaming on her laptop showed a shopping street in dismay. She had one earbud in, while her phone was pressed to the other side of her head, as if the block of technology could teleport her to Shanghai, if only she wished hard enough. The broadcast had to deal with some major shaky-cam. The yellow light made the camera images glow and the reflective glare blinding.

“It’s Celeste,” Alya heard Sabrina say over the phone. Indeed, there was a spot of dark blue and green in one corner. The camera shifted, and through the _glittering_ swirls of wind a black and yellow clad figure became visible. Alya had to hand it to the camera person for their tenacity as the lens panned closer to what she realized was a sizable gap in the circular wall formed from Honeycomb. Celeste and Honeybee were talking to each other, yelling over the howling wind. The audio on the other side could only pick up so much. Alya had to strain to hear and, even then, she only made out the words because she had the video cranked up to an unsafe volume, and she could read Honeybee’s lips.

“Missing? What do you mean missing?”

The newscast didn’t translate the snippet of French. Not that it mattered to Alya, who had heard enough. The camera continued to pan back and forth, and it dawned on her that there was no sign of Volpina.

Or of Ladybug and Chat Noir.

\--

 

The chaotic, bustling metropolis was gone. It was a good thing, Ladybug rationalized. They didn’t need to worry about collateral damage or keeping pedestrians out of harm’s way. Even if it left her in unfamiliar territory. She expected to see a deep purple sky but, instead, squinted at a stark white ceiling. Subconsciously, she and Chat grabbed each others’ hands. They were standing in a long corridor. One that appeared to lead to somewhere on both ends. Everything was too white, and she couldn’t figure out the light source.

“This place is creepy,” Chat Noir said. “It has to be the other realm, right?”

“I think so. Tikki knew exactly what I wanted. The Quantic Realm.”

Chat scratched a cat ear and swung out their intertwined hands. “Hey, we’re still glowing. Which way, then?”

From where they were standing, with their backs to one wall, they could go right or left. After a minute of waiting for some inspiration to strike, some intuition to follow, and getting nothing, Ladybug spoke. “Rock, paper, scissors,” she suggested. “You win, we go right. I win, we go left.”

Ladybug won. The first corner they turned after walking right was a dead end, so they doubled back. The entire time, the pair saw only white walls without any light source. They followed the other corner down a sharp left, only to find three diverging paths. One of the corridors appeared to be curved.

It was a maze. How would they find Volpina if they couldn’t even find a way out? Before Ladybug could voice the issue, she flinched as she heard a roar, then felt rumbling as the walls shook. Ladybug and Chat Noir moved to stand back-to-back, yo-yo and baton out. A shadow streaked past them, and rocketed against the next corner. She had already used up lucky charm, so she was going to have to be more creative. Being in that realm, the shard called out to them like a siren’s song. Once in its vicinity, it was impossible to miss.  
It was lodged inside the akuma's heart.  
There was hardly any room to fight in the corridors. If the akuma was intent on charging at them like a bull, they were at a greater disadvantage in the maze.

“Cover me if the fox comes back,” Ladybug said. She took a few steps away from Chat and started twirling her yo-yo so fast it resembled a disk. She stepped forward and drilled a hole into the wall that reached the ceiling. Ladybug was disappointed, but not completely surprised, to discover yet another wall on the other side. She walked away from Chat, leaving a trail of debris behind her.

If she created enough of a mess that it couldn’t be avoided, the fox would have to slow down, in theory. To be honest, the destruction she was wreaking felt cathartic. Thundering paws sounded from ahead. Ladybug and Chat Noir flung themselves against their adjacent walls, giving the fox a clear path. Sure enough, when the akuma encountered the mess on the floor, it slowed. As it passed her, Ladybug could discern its large ears, its neck, it’s dark fur blown back by the force of its own motion. Ladybug shot out her yo-yo, trying to catch the animal, well, anywhere. To have the yo-yo string tighten and restrain the fox. If she was lucky, Volpina would crash into the corner coming up.  
It almost worked.  
Using both hands clasped around the yo-yo string Ladybug could swing her weapon around the fox once as it lost its footing. With a jerk of her arm, the lasso tightened into a collar. The fox was closing in on Chat Noir as Ladybug tried to weigh it down. Chat had his baton extended to two meters, and he looked like he was ready to play baseball or impale-the-akuma. Suddenly, the akuma halted. Ladybug felt a burning sensation in her hands _again_ , and an absence of weight as she lurched forward. She had sailed through the air countless times before, and it was that familiarity that limited her blind panic. She turned the motion into a forward roll, and spun around once she was back on her feet. Blazing orange eyes looked directly at her. Ladybug could see herself reflected in them. Her shoulders, hunched and her hands, empty.

In the turmoil, her yo-yo had been flung down the corridor, some distance behind Chat Noir. Ladybug stared past the snarling akuma to Chat, whose glowing eyes were wide as he made a flash of movement.

The fox jumped, all sharp teeth and rage, just as Ladybug side-stepped left. Her arms stretched out to catch Chat’s baton. It felt heavy. She wasn’t used to the weight, and she had one second to try swinging it in one swift arc before she thrust it forward. Claws scraped across the metal. She twirled the baton back and forth, defending herself against the onslaught of fangs and claws, but not without having to stumble backward. With a burst of energy, Ladybug aimed at the fox’s legs, diving to the ground in the process. A cluster of black and red sailed overhead. Ladybug scrambled to her feet in time to see her own yo-yo coiling around the fox’s neck. Chat had managed to restrain it just as the akuma lunged forward toward her. Ladybug shortened the baton to its minimum length, and gripped it vertically. She extended her arm as the fox continued to push toward her, and the moment her vertical fist was inside its jaws, she lengthened the baton. Ladybug removed her hand and veered to the side. She plucked the outermost string from the collar and started running toward Chat. The string bent in her hands like putty, must easier to control than Chat’s baton. She vaguely noted that her earrings had started beeping. Once the string has been pulled into a taunt “V,” Ladybug yelled, “You can let go. While it’s still immobilized.”  
He didn’t have to be told twice. The line went slack on one end as Chat released his hands. He bounded gracefully across the debris as Ladybug tried to shift to the center of the corridor, so as to have better leverage than restraining it from the side. Volpina felt the imbalance of its anchor and quickly turn around just as—

“Cataclysm!”  
Chat volleyed forward with the motion of a right cross. Cataclysm tore through the shadows, a straight shot through the heart. While the akuma was flung on the ground, Chat stood shakily. His paw was covered in ichor, but at its center was something glowing. The yo-yo was still wrapped around the akuma’s neck. Chat knelt by it, keeping an arm’s length away from Volpina, as Ladybug willed the yo-yo to open. Chat Noir dropped the final shard into the small compact of light.

Ladybug trembled as she breathed out the words. “De-evilize.” Her earnings had been beeping for the last two minutes. “Miraculous Ladybug.”

What was left of the akuma dissolved away as the labyrinth they stood in fixed itself. Before she could feel truly relieved, Ladybug realized she was seeing spots, not including ones on her suit. The floor remained completely stable, as did the ceiling. She heard the baton hit the ground, but the clattering sounded far away, like her ears were stuffed with cotton.

“Catch me,” Ladybug cried.

 

Chat Noir reacted like lightning, spinning on his heels and crashing into Ladybug. He swept her up as she de-transformed into Marinette. Gently, Chat Noir sat on the ground with Marinette in his arms. Tikki appeared before him, fluttering in front of his face.

“Oh dear, we’re still in the other realm, aren’t we?” Tikki sighed and sat on Marinette’s shoulder. Judging by how unconcerned about Marinette, on a superficially level, the kwami was, Chat Noir assumed Marinette would wake up soon. He would make a valiant effort to not freak out too much. “I’m not sure I have the strength to do another invocation.”

“What?!”

“I need recharge food, to start,” Tikki lamented. “Marinette, Marinette wake up.”

Chat Noir gingerly opened the small pink pouch always slung across Marinette’s shoulder, resting at her hip. Inside was two pieces of chocolate with wrappers labeled in Chinese, an individually wrapped piece of Turkish delight, and a few spicy wafer cookies Chat remembered buying when they went shopping at the international grocery store. Surprisingly, there was also a cube of cheese, a squished piece of red-bean stuffed mochi, and dried lavender. Chat Noir supposed lavender counted as a flower.

“Thank the gods for Marinette’s over-preparedness.” Chat Noir knew she would have _something_ in that tiny purse. As it turned out, she had everything for the team. He handed Tikki all the wafers after unwrapping them. As Tikki ate the snacks, Chat Noir called for Marinette to wake up.

 

Marinette found herself staring into vast, empty space. The first problem was that she was Marinette, not Ladybug. She had long reconciled with the fact that the identities were two sides of the same coin, both equally important to her but, right now, it was a practical problem. They needed to stop Volpina. She needed to be Ladybug. Wait, Volpina. They had de-evilized the last fragment of the charm. Memories flooded into mind. Of her teammates, of every city she had been to, of the destruction that constantly followed. She had had nightmares about every single battleground, including Paris. Especially Paris. She had to remind herself that the nightmares painted scarier pictures in her head, that it had never been that bad. The nightmares created space for the bad memories and worse imaginings to fill her brain like air.

Pedestrians fleeing in Paris; the rain pelting her in Tehran; running through Moscow, Montreal, Istanbul in the dark; the echoes of people and swell of crowds in Addis Ababa, Cairo, Taipei, São Paulo. Thoughts, sensations, from each place blurred together. Most of the time, her recollections held her up, made her feel happy and grateful and lucky. Now, she was drowning in every place she had ever been. She was getting trapped in her own head. She needed to leave.

_Marinette._

She needed to open her eyes.

_Marinette._

She needed to feel like she could breathe again. Adrien’s voice sounded in the distance.

_Marinette, please wake up._

She jolted up with a gasp. Her arm, which had sprung wildly, whacked something. She thought she heard a feminine yelp. There was a flare in the pit of her stomach, coiling into leaden stone, scorching her all the while. Then, her vision focused.

The first thing she saw was Adrien—no, Chat Noir’s eyes. Luminous and gleaming like starlight. They felt like home.

“I love you.” The words spilled from her lips before she could think. The urge to heave her guts out vanished.

Chat looked bemused. “I love you too, but I’m not sure if I should be worried or relieved.”

“Marinette seems to have her strength back,” Tikki said. The red kwami bobbed over and landed on Marinette’s shoulder. Marinette must have accidentally sent Tikki spiraling when she woke up. Marinette came to grasp a few other things, like how she was currently cradled on Chat Noir’s lap, and that he was sitting amidst white space. His baton was sprawled a couple meters behind them. Her purse was open.

Marinette tilted her head back, pressing it into Chat’s shoulder. “How long was I out?”

“Two, three minutes.” He leaned closer to her. “Don’t worry, I’ve got you.”  
“My hero,” Marinette teased. She surveyed the area. “We’re in the quantic realm? We have to go. There’s damage in the human world. I haven’t fixed any of it. Chloé’s hurt, still.”  
Chat Noir helped her up, one arm on her waist, the other on her elbow. “I went through your purse and gave Tikki all the cookies. You should eat something yourself. Please, you need the energy.” Before Marinette could insist she was “fine,” Chat Noir added. “You just blacked out. I would offer you a cup of water, if I had it.”

Marinette ate the chocolate and Turkish Delight, leaving her purse stuffed with wrappers. Maybe there was a rule about humans eating in other realms, but this place never felt like fairyland, so she was willing to take the risk. “Sorry I whacked you earlier, Tikki.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Tikki said. “I’m just glad you’re safe.”

Marinette noticed the worried expression Chat Noir had when she transformed. She guessed it was because his own ring had been blinking for a while. It made her pause. Before she could ask about him, he turned back into Adrien.

“Oh no!” Marinette wanted to cry. They were so close, and now this happened.

“I saw a piece of cheese in Tikki’s bag,” Adrien reminded her. He pointed to the purse as Plagg yawned.

Marinette made a face as she checked the bag. “This cheese? It’s sort of old. Possibly expired.  Plagg wouldn’t want to…”

The black kwami floated over and sniffed the offending dairy product. “No, I certainly don’t,” he sighed. “But, this is an emergency. Chat Noir might look a bit green at the gills, as a result.” Plagg swallowed the cheese in one bite.

“Marinette,” Tikki warned. “One incantation is enough for a day. You’re going to have to find another way out.”

Marinette’s eyes widened. After a long pause, she nodded solemnly.

Together, the two miraculous users transformed. Their weapons appeared at their sides, in their default states, once they were in costume again.

“You have a plan, right?” Chat Noir asked.

They were in another realm, caught between a fantasy and a nightmare. They had been playing with forces they didn’t fully understand for the past year, if not years. Since the beginning, the magic had a way of reminding them that the situation was so much bigger than them. “My plan is Tikki,” Ladybug said. “My plan is always Tikki.” Ladybug took a deep breath. “Lucky Charm!”

This time, she didn’t care what appeared as long as it helped them get out. Instinct kicked in when the shadow of the object materialized overhead, and Chat Noir and Ladybug threw themselves in opposite directions. Once in the clear, the pair started laughing. Adrenaline, desperation, and disbelief rounded out their laughter. It wasn’t quite a piano or safe dropping on then like in the old cartoons, but it was close.  
“Thank you, quantic realm.” Ladybug wasn’t even being sarcastic.

The motorcycle that had materialized was painted completely black. Ladybug, who knew nothing about bikes, assumed it was mid-sized, using mopeds as her point of reference. The handles were green. The speedometer was in the middle of the dashboard. On its left were three switches with ladybug-patterned spots. The keys dangling from the bike were also ladybug-patterned. Two helmets tied to the seats: a ladybug patterned one, and a black one with green racing stripes across it and cat ears molded into its form. The km/hr bar on the speedometer ended at a red zone with the word “ _sortie_ ” printed at the end. It seemed they were going to have to accelerate and crash their way out.

Chat Noir reacted first, catching the bike by the handles and stabilizing it with the kickstand. He jumped with excitement. “So cool!” He picked up the helmet that could fit over his cat ears and put it on. “We never get _this_ lucky on Earth.”

If Tikki could speak while she was transformed without the strain of higher possession, the kwami would probably have explained some rule about magic and how more powerful the gods were in their own realm.

“You should drive Chat.” Ladybug strapped on her own helmet.  
“Huh? It’s your power. Although I do appreciate the color scheme.”  
“Once we smash through reality, or however we’ll get back on this thing, I want to be able to cast Miraculous Ladybug immediately. Since throwing up a whole freakin’ bike isn’t going to work, I’ll have to do it from it mid-air.” Chat strapped on his own helmet as Ladybug continued. “Besides, I’ve never even driven a car! You’ve at least handled a dirt bike before, right?”  
“Twice, when my mom took me on holidays south. I was ten or twelve! This is different.”  
“C’mon, you’ve got a helmet and a leather suit, and we don’t have time to be arguing.” Ladybug added, more gently, “You’ll be fine. We’ll be fine.” Before she could add that she honestly couldn’t remember the last time she had ridden a bike, Chat had warmed up to the idea. He swung a leg across the bike and started the ignition. Ladybug sat behind him, wrapping her arms around his waist. The engine roared to life as Chat flipped the kickstand.

They lurched forward, Chat steering the bike down the corridor and taking a right turn. Ladybug wasn’t sure what she had expected, but it hadn’t been Chat trying to _solve_ the maze.

“What are you doing?” Ladybug asked. “We have to get _out._ Crash through the walls. Crash through the _ceiling_ if you have to.”

“Backseat driving aside, do you know how crazy your instructions sound?”

Ladybug reached forward with her left arm and flipped a switch marked with a dust cloud. The bike shot forward, and they tore through two walls before either of them realized what had occurred. She hit the switch marked with wings and felt them float. Shaking a helmeted head in resignation, Chat Noir cranked the gas further and they plummeted through the ceiling, through rocks, to a purple sky. The walls and ceiling they crashed through felt oddly porous, like Styrofoam or coral. It had been rather easy to smash through with her yo-yo as well. Before Ladybug could dwell on the observation, or the rock structure they seemed to have sprung from, Ladybug tightened one arm around Chat’s waist, and, with the other, flipped the third switch. While they were still midair, Chat accelerated the bike, dragging the needle on the speedometer to the edge.

There was a flash. The temperature warmed instantaneously as the air felt congested and smoggy. They’d sprung from the sky, the same way they had been eaten up by the quantic realm in the first place. The eyes of the crowd below were on them, along with Honeybee and Celeste, who had been given a wide breadth. Honeybee looked like she would tip over at any moment. Ladybug spoke when they were about four meters from the ground.  
“Miraculous ladybug!” The bike vanished completely with a swarm of ladybugs when they were three meters from the ground. Celeste swung his staff out at two meters, and they landed softly. The ladybugs crowded Honeybee in addition to repairing the street.

“You know, I liked your entrance on the giant fox better,” Honeybee said once the ladybugs had winked out of this plane of existence.  
“Oh good, you’re okay.” Ladybug’s words came out like a question.

“My injuries are healed,” Honeybee said without answering the actual question.  
Before she could report on what had happened, Ladybug took in the repaired shopping district. Some people were cheering, while others were dusting themselves off and getting back to a day’s work. A newscaster managed to call out in French: “Look this way” followed by all of their superhero names.  
They turned and posed for pictures, then dispersed. As they separated, they were swarmed by different groups of press.  
“Shanghai’s a beautiful city, and we’re happy to protect it,” Chat said.  
“We go where we are needed,” Ladybug iterated. “Wherever there is an akuma attack. We hope to keep everyone safe.”

They heroes didn’t linger, each taking the first opportunity they found to slip away. Ladybug escaped first. She ducked into a narrow alleyway, passing small food stands and a shop which appeared to only sell smartphone cases. She checked the coast was clear and ran into the labyrinth. It was quiet again. The dim light was comforting. _You’re here. You’re here in the Labyrinth and nowhere else,_ Ladybug thought to herself, even though she had trouble believing the words. _You might even be safe now._ Ladybug sped to the corridor where they stored most of the snacks and made good use of their store of recharge food.

Chat quickly joined her in the Labyrinth, followed by Celeste and then Honeybee. The heroes clarified what had happened at both ends. They were all in disbelief about the motorcycle, especially those who had ridden on it.

“I try not to be surprised by magic,” Ladybug mused. “Never works.”

They had done it. They had collected every fragment of Volpina, but it felt like only a lull in the storm, not a win. They’d yet to confirm Trixx was okay. Ladybug had trouble believing it was almost over. As they made their way through the tunnels, Ladybug gripped Chat’s hand and kept the fingers of her free hand tapping on her leg. The rhythmic sensation reminded her she wasn’t dreaming.

When they stumbled back to Paris it was a dark hour of the night, so late it was almost morning.  They went straight to Master Fu’s place, shimmying in through a window after tapping on the glass. Master Fu appeared to have aged a century since she had last seen him. Ladybug knew, even for the Guardian, a century was a lot of time.

The TV was turned to a Chinese news channel broadcasting the recent events of Shanghai. Surprisingly, Alya and Sabrina were both there, juggling their attention between the TV screen and their phones. The pair looked at the miraculous holders like they were ghosts.

Alya rushed to Ladybug first, hugging her so hard she almost had the air squeezed out of her lungs. Alya kissed both of her cheeks. “Girl, I can’t believe you—”

“Master Fu,” Ladybug called through the excitement of reunions, hugs, and worried greetings. Ladybug opened her yo-yo, and revealed the final two pieces of Volpina.

Each fragment they had wrassled from Volpina had gone into the yo-yo to be purified. Then, kept there until she could hand them over to Master Fu. From what she understood of their first visit to the quantic realm, Master Fu had somehow sent them there. Alya was saying something, and then Nino and Sabrina, and Nino again. Marinette couldn’t be bothered to process the words. Not when their voices sounded an island away because the pieces of Trixx’s anchor glittered like broken seashells in Master Fu’s wrinkled palms.

Ladybug de-transformed, and the other miraculous holders followed suit. In their civilian identities, everyone followed Master Fu into the next room. Master Fu got out the hexagonal, velvet-lined box that looked like it had a place for every miraculous Ladybug knew of. Instead of opening the box, Master Fu placed the two fragments at its center. The kwami gathered around the box as the humans watched, unsure of what else to do. Master Fu backed away from the table, gesturing for everyone else to do the same. He nodded at Wayzz.

“I’ve linked with Nooroo on the other side,” Wayzz explained. As if on cue, the kwami swarmed the shards in circular flight patterns.

Sabrina whispered something to Master Fu, and Master Fu spoke up so that they could all hear. “It comes down to the gods,” the Guardian explained somberly. “Ladybug may have summoned the charm to earth the first time. However, there was no creation involved. All she ultimately did was open a door with her yo-yo, allowing the charm to materialize as it was needed. The gods acted according to their own will. It was a matter of Trixx deciding Nooroo should be freed, and doing what it could to help. Now, it is a matter of the kwami being willing to make Volpina whole again.”  
The kwami were now flying so fast steaks of color followed them, forming a pulsing, dome-shaped rainbow. Marinette realized she had forgotten exactly what the necklace looked like. It was like picturing an old haircut or childhood toy. She knew it of it generally, and was sure she could recognize it if she saw it, but would not be able to draw it in any detail.

The kwami started chanting. Marinette wasn’t sure how to classify the sound that came out. It was a chime and a song; an applause as much as a battle cry.

Tikki had explained to her during one of their more philosophical conversations that humans held some sway over gods. Humans had always inspired gods, or else irritated them in ways that spurred then to action. They had lived over millennia, seen civilizations rise and fall, dealt with humanity at their best and at their worst. Volpina’s actions reflected the kwami’s belief that they would ultimately succeed in putting its pieces together, that the sacrifice would be worth it. Things wouldn’t simply turn out okay, but the miraculous holders would stand up and fight and make things okay. The gods had believed in her, and she had always had faith in them.  
The thrum emitted from the dome got louder as the kwami sailed, clockwise, then counter-clockwise, faster and faster, over and across. Marinette had to shut her eyes and turn her head away as the noise shook her bones. Then, it stopped.

Marinette cracked her eyes open and saw that the power had gone out. In fact, it looked like the electric ceiling lights had completely shattered. They were in the dark, the kwami sitting in a circle around their handiwork, too tired to levitate. The sight of the necklace, reformed, intact, and whole, brought tears to her eyes. She heard Chloé and Alya grumble and move behind her. Each took out their mobile and shone a light around the room. At the center of the circle of kwami was, unmistakably, Volpina’s pendant. In the dim light, Marinette tried to find every shard, every fragment broken up, but the charm simply looked whole.

“That’s it?” Nino asked at the same time Adrien asked, “Is it over?”

Instinctively, Marinette shifted closer to Adrien. He put a hand on her shoulder.  
Before anyone else could speak, the necklace started glowing.

The kwami scuttled back. The rest of them stared, transfixed. Even Master Fu had a surprised expression on his face.

Above the necklace, a miniature orange creature materialized. Its tiny tail swished behind it as large eyes peered around the room.

“Volpina?” Alya asked tentatively.

It yawned. “You already know my name is Trixx.” The edges around the fox kwami blurred, like the image from a projector going out of focus.

“Are you better?” Marinette asked tentatively. “Are you healed?”

“It will take some time for me to fully recover and have enough strength to go into battle with a host,” Trixx said. “However, because my anchor has been restored, I am immeasurably better. For your help, thank you.”

“No, thank you!” Adrien stepped forward and bowed briefly. “If you hadn’t done what you did, I don’t know how the battle would have turned out. I don’t know…  We owe you so much.”

“The feeling is reciprocated.” Trixx flickered, dimmed, and seemed to become fully corporeal again.

“If you're here, does that mean...?” Chloé didn’t finish her sentence. “I’m not even sure of the rules anymore.”

“I believe I am in the presence of my new host,” Trixx declared. Master Fu was the only human in the room who looked unsurprised. He stepped forward and turned to the group.

“Likewise, I think I have found my successor,” he announced. “Someone else in the room.”

The silence that descended was from shock, as well as brains whirling, trying to make sense of those statements. Trying to worry out their full implications. Tikki’s voice pierced through it, an arrow through a fog.

“You’ve been mulling over that possibility for months. So you’ve finally decided,” the kwami of creation said. Marinette wasn’t sure if the ladybug kwami was talking to Master Fu or Wayzz. It didn’t seem to matter. It was an hour from sunrise, her mind was a haze, and the darkness wasn’t helping her stay awake. She was so tired she almost missed it: Alya’s surging forward, as if her arm were pulled along by a string, the girl’s hand clasping the pendant. Alya’s jaw dropped as Trixx drifted towards her.

Master Fu clapped his hands together. “We’ll talk about this tomorrow,” he said, authoritatively. “Some of you, who snuck out of your parents’ places in the middle of the night, have to show your face at breakfast. The others,” Master Fu vaguely gestured to Marinette, Adrien, and Chloé, “Can stay here for what little remains of the night.”

Alya looked unimpressed. “Nuh-uh.” She put a hand on the table, removing it from Volpina’s pendant. “I left my parents a note. Told them in the middle of the night I realized my computer crashed and burned on a project due very soon, and that I had to get it done, so I left super early, because I needed access to the university archives.” Alya knocked on the wood of the table as she spoke of the possibility of technology failing her. “When Nino’s parents texted me, I told them we were all at Marinette and Adrien’s, and he wasn’t answering his phone because he and Adrien were in the middle of a LOL campaign. You’re not getting rid of us that easily.”

“No,” Master Fu admitted. “You’ve prepared well.”

“I left a note saying Chloé was having a crisis, I was going to the hotel, and I would go straight to school if I couldn’t get back in time.” Sabrina smiled. “Now I need a plausible crisis.”

“Oh, I’m sure something will come up,” Chloé assured everyone.

With all of them staying over, Master Fu, adjusted the plan, but still insisted they all get what little rest they could. He revealed a mix of sleeping bags and futons in the closets. There was enough floor space for everyone to find a spot. Marinette threw her futon next to Adrien’s.  
As Marinette set up the bedding and laid out the covers, thoughts swirled.

Two new miraculous users. Alya was getting Volpina. Master Fu intended to train Sabrina as the new Guardian, if she agreed. Volpina was restored. She wasn’t dreaming, was she? Was she falling? She felt a pair of arms around her, the scent of Adrien’s shampoo.

“Whoa, Marinette.” Adrien’s voice seemed to drift from a cloud. “Twice in one day? Yeah, you’re sleeping now.” She felt covers thrown over her and her head touching the pillow.

“She’s not going to school tomorrow.” It was Alya’s voice. “Don’t let her, ya hear?”

Master Fu started to say something, but before he could finish his sentence, and before Marinette could process the words, she was asleep.


	26. Fire and Ash (Epilogue)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bits and pieces of the aftermath.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First off, I would like to thank every person who read through this fic. The response I've gotten is tremendous, humbling, and honestly, greater than I could have ever imagined. I am so honored and so grateful for the support this story has gotten. It means more to me than I could ever express with words. I'd started this story over a year ago, in the midst of moving internationally, and here we are, a year later. The last chapter is being uploaded just as I am moving across the world (again).
> 
> The endings are the hardest to nail IMO, and I tried to balance a satisfying conclusion with leaving things open for interpretation. At the very least, I hope this fic entertained you all to some degree as we all wait on pins and needles for season 2.
> 
> Again, THANK YOU and I LOVE YOU ALL.

Marinette woke up to the sound of tinkering and something dragging across the floor. She blinked several times, realizing she was on the floor of Master Fu’s apartment. All the other sleeping bags/futons were empty. Wait—why was no one else around? With a panic, Marinette flipped over her covers and felt around for her phone.

“No!” Marinette gasped. _11:58 AM._ Why didn’t Adrien wake her up? Why didn’t anyone wake her up? She scrambled up and ran to the next room. There she found Master Fu standing on a stepladder, changing the lightbulb. Tikki and Wayzz were hovering nearby.

“Marinette!” Tikki zipped towards her. “Are you feeling okay?”

“I’m fine, except that I’m late for everything! I already missed half my classes today. And Volpina, and Wendy knows, and what’s this about training a successor, Master Fu?”

“There’s breakfast waiting in the kitchen,” Master Fu said from the ladder. “Go eat.”

Tikki nudged her along, so Marinette grudgingly left. In the kitchen, she found some toast and fruit waiting, covered by a lid. Under a thermos of still-hot coffee were two unsigned notes. She recognized Adrien’s handwriting ( _Don’t worry, missing one day of school isn’t going to ruin your career)_ and Alya’s ( _Girl, eat your toast. & DON’T BE AN IDIOT_). Marinette chuckled in spite of herself. When she opened her phone again and unlocked it, after a sip of coffee, she was awake enough to read through all the texts she had.

**[Chloé Bourgeois @ 10h06]**

**There’s a betting pool for when you’ll wake up.**

**[Alya Césaire @ 09h30]**

**So Volpina had to hop back to the quantic realm for a while, but she told me she would return. DO YOU KNOW WHAT THAT MEANS?!!?!!** **;) :) :D XD <:D <:) **

**[Alya Césaire @ 09h31]**

**Also, you really scared me there, girl. You’re under house arrest for the day, got it?**

**[Willa Culpepper @ 08h18]**

**The food poisoning must be terrible if you are out of school today. I hope you feel better!**

**[You have 2 more messages]**

 

Marinette answered the messages in the  order shown on screen, sometimes going back and forth between conversations as the responses flowed in.

 

To Chloé she admitted:

**[Marinette Dupain-Cheng @ 12h07]**

**I’m not surprised.**

**Are you at school right now?**

**[Chloé Bourgeois @ 12h12]**

**Yeah, because my PTSD isn’t as bad as yours. & yes, I’m being dead serious. Before you type in “How…?” or whatever questions: how the hell not?**

**Now I must walk to lunch. Ttyl.**

 

Alya she didn’t want to text as much as call, because there were some things that simply required that much if you couldn’t talk in person. She settled for waiting.

**[Marinette Dupain-Cheng @ 12h10]**

**I have so many questions. I’m guessing everyone is meeting tonight?**

**[Alya Césaire @ 12h15]**

**Duh. See ya then.**

With Willa, it was easier to lie over text.

**[Marinette Dupain-Cheng @ 12h11]**

**Yeah, I had a rough night. Just woke up, actually.**

**[Willa Culpepper @ 12h18]**

**Wow, that model said it was bad, but I didn’t think you would actually miss school. The rest of the networking thing was okay. I’m sure there’ll be more opportunities. Get well soon!**

**[Marinette Dupain-Cheng @12h19]**

**Thanks. Enjoy class. Wish I could be there.**

 

Except, for once, she was glad she wasn’t. Through gritted teeth and Tikki’s concerned glare, she had to admit that Alya was right. She needed the personal day.

Adrien had texted a cat emoji. Then, a photo of a doodle he had made in the corner of his notebook in class, with another cat. Marinette cracked a smile.

 

**[Marinette Dupain-Cheng @ 12h24]**

**I’m up.**

**[Adrien Agreste @ 12h24]**

**Good morning/day.**

**[Marinette Dupain-Cheng @ 12h25]**

**Why didn’t you wake me up? You know I would have gone to class on one hour of sleep.**

**[Adrien Agreste @ 12h26]**

**Yeah, yeah you would. Alya insisted, and if she hadn’t, I would have.**

**[Adrien Agreste @ 12h27]**

**You basically fainted twice yesterday. It was almost a Korean drama episode. Don’t turn into one of those heroines, okay?**

 

_Yeah, there would be some complicated love triangle, and then I would have to die dramatically,_ Marinette thought She was about to joke about it, but it seemed too dark to say, even in jest, so she amended the text.

**[Marinette Dupain-Cheng @ 12h29 ]**

**Our lives are a totally different genre, for sure.**

 

There was now one new message to respond to. It was from the night before.

 

**[Wendy Seighin @ 20h48]**

**Saw U on the news. Good job.**

 

Right. The new secret keeper. Marinette stared glumly at the timestamp on the text. She hadn’t talked to anyone about what had happened. There hadn’t been a moment, and Marinette had blocked the incident from her brain at the earliest opportunity.

She put her face in her hands. “I was so careless, Tikki. What am I going to do?”

“It could be worse,” Tikki chirped. “Do you think she would tell?”

“No, I don’t know what exactly she’s going to do.” Marinette combed her fingers through her hair nervously, to give them something to focus on. “I can only hope.”

Once she forced herself to leave her hair alone, Marinette texted Alya asking if there had been any breech of information or major reveal on the interwebs. There hadn’t been. She texted Adrien about Wendy’s text, and elaborated on what had happened as she was leaving school.

 

**[Adrien Agreste @ 12h43]**

**The offer still stands, if you want me to talk to her.**

**[Marinette Dupain-Cheng @ 12h44]**

**No, I should be the one to do it. Don’t worry.**

 

Despite her words to Adrien, it took a good ten minutes of staring at her phone, muttering to herself, and a sharp reminder from Tikki to get the message out.

 

**[Marinette Dupain-Cheng @ 12h54]**

**Thank you. Can we meet up soon? I want to talk to you.**

 

They set up a time and place, which was how Marinette found herself in her own childhood bedroom that evening, with Wendy. Tom and Sabine had taken the surprise visit in stride, but were too busy with a rush cake order to offer more than a greeting and some refreshments. (To them, dessert was as much of a refreshment as water or tea.) Marinette was glad for how distracted they were. She was jumpy and out-of-sorts as it was, without the added pressure of acting “normal” in front of her parents and a new guest.

Wendy, to her credit, was a lot less talkative than usual. She let Marinette lead her up two flights of stairs and up the ladder to her room. As Marinette shut the door panel, Wendy’s black doe eyes scanned the room curiously.

“The place is very you-as-a-kid,” the model said. “I can totally see it.”

“Wendy…”

“If you think I’d tell, I’m insulted.” Wendy’s English-accented French was sharp and choppy. “What do you take me for?”

“Someone in an entirely new situation.” Marinette gestured for her guest to sit somewhere in the room.

“Why would I tell? Who would I tell?” Wendy plopped down in the swivel chair by Marinette’s desk. The computer that was once there was gone (she was pretty sure she last left the laptop in Adrien’s bedroom). An old music box and a layer of dust was all that was left on the desk. Wendy scooted the chair toward the center of the room, where Marinette stood. “I’ve watched enough movies and read enough books and comics to know how this plays out.” Wendy paused, opened her mouth and then closed it, as if changing her mind about what she was going to say. “I won’t say a word, I promise.”

Marinette let out a sigh. “You understand why I’m still relieved to hear direct confirmation from you.” The words emerged in a faster rush than Marinette intended.

Wendy smiled wryly. “Is that all?”

“Well, I also figured you earned a chance to get your own questions answered, unless you don’t have any.” Her words were jumbled. She needed to calm down.

The Australian native seemed to have no problem understanding the slurred dialogue. “What do you take me for? Now I’m really insulted. _Of course_ I have questions!” Wendy’s words were slower, pointedly-enunciated textbook French.  “Do your parents know? Does Adrien know? What’s it like? I can’t imagine how you even do it, balancing school and, well, this is work, right? Extremely dangerous work.”

“Adrien knows,” Marinette said. “My parents don’t, however. What it’s like… I don’t know how to describe it. I mean, the powers feel great, and it’s something good I can do, which is more important. It _is_ work. I’m not particularly good at balancing it, if you haven’t noticed.”

“I think you’re doing wonderful Marinette. Do you know the other holders? Their identities, I mean.” Wendy bit her lip. “I know you can’t tell me who they are. The Internet has so many theories about your powers,” she added.

“I do know their identities, and Alya would know more about the theories than I do,” Marinette tugged at her pigtails. “Some are correct, and a lot aren’t.”

“Oh my god, does _Alya_ know who you are?” Wendy might not have been explicitly told about the Ladyblog but it wasn’t difficult to find.

“She does,” Marinette admitted.

Wendy silently spun herself around in the swivel chair. She took out her phone. “You know, it makes sense now,” she said after a moment’s pause. “How you are so spacey sometimes. It might be a personality thing too, but this info does give me perspective. Well, how much do you want me to know? I don’t want to pry.” Marinette realized Wendy had opened a translation app on her phone, and had been looking up the French to get the words right.

Marinette gave her the bare bones of how she had received the miraculous and defeated Hawkmoth. She then went on to mention Volpina. “It’s the shadow fox you’ve been seeing around the world. We’ve only recently managed to gather all the pieces and stitch the necklace back together. Like, yesterday. I’m still not sure it’s over yet. This is Tikki, by the way. My kwami. She’s the source of my power.”

On cue, the Ladybug kwami flew out from Marinette’s tote. Tikki’s presence, more than anything else, broke through her calm.

“Oh, wow. That-agh-um, okay. She certainly looks magical,” Wendy managed to say in a small voice. “So you get your powers from a magical girl transformation, and you’ve been doing this since you were fifteen?”

Marinette thought back. “Fourteen.”

Wendy frowned. “It must have been difficult.”

Marinette wanted to say something, but the words dried at her throat. She opened, then closed her mouth, pursing her lips together.. Marinette had expected awe and excitement, as others had reacted. Even praise, if she was being cocky. She hadn’t expected sympathy. Then again, Marinette had never told anyone who was as introspective and well-versed in action/adventure tropes.

“You don’t realize until you’re older how young some protagonists are,” Wendy mused. “Sixteen or fifteen or fourteen, and they’ve got a world of power on their shoulders and weights tied to their feet.”

Marinette tugged at her pigtails. Philosophizing to avoid direct confrontation, she could do. The kwami and Master Fu were particularly good at it. “We make the most of the cards we’re dealt.”

“You’ve got quite the super-powered deck.”

“You’ve not a bad hand yourself.”

The girls giggled and talked for a few more minutes before Marinette heard her parents call up for them.

“Marinette, we were planning on ordering out because we’re still working on the order,” Sabine said from a floor below. “You and your friend are welcome to stay, of course. Though I do wish you had called first.”

“No, it’s alright, Mama.” Marinette swung the door panel open. “I just wanted to show her something from my old room. I have plans with friends now anyway, but I’ll come by this weekend, I promise.”

“Did you find what you were looking for?” Sabine asked. “I didn’t move anything off the shelves.”

Wendy raised an eyebrow at her. Marinette shrugged. It would have made sense for her mom to assume the surprise visit was fashion-related. A design in an old sketchbook, a bolt of cloth or set of buttons she had left here, and not at her apartment. “It’s fine. Thanks!”

Tikki hid back in Marinette’s bag and they went downstairs. Marinette said her goodbyes to her parents after Wendy made brief conversation with them.

“Marinette,” Wendy called as they parted ways by the nearest metro station. “You’ve seem to have got it covered, but, if you ever want someone to talk to, I’m all ears. And my lips are sealed.”

Marinette kissed each of Wendy’s cheeks. “Thank you. It means a lot. I’ll talk to you soon. Don’t pester Adrien with _too_ many questions about all this, okay?”

Wendy saluted at her playfully. “Whatever happens, you’ll be okay. I just know it.” The new secret-keeper was swept up in the evening rush hour as she bounded toward her metro line.

Perhaps Marinette had been more transparent in her abridged summary of her life than she realized. Or she had simply been that easy to read. Her phone buzzed—a text from Alya reminding her to get to Master Fu’s place—as she headed up the stairs after a short metro ride. Wendy was right.

“It’ll be fine. We’ll be okay. I’ll make sure of it,” Marinette muttered to herself. She supposed she was hard-wired to think on the bright side.

“That positive outlook will save your whole life,” Tikki said from the inside of her bag as Marinette headed to meet the others.

\--

 

“What do you think about the new batch?” Wayzz asked Master Fu three days after the Quantic Squad had stumbled through his window straight from China in the middle of the night. The futons and sleeping bags had since been cleared. Marinette had gone back to school on Wednesday. Special meetings to discuss Trixx, the Labyrinth, and the other realm in general were bound to be scheduled but, otherwise, everyone had thrown themselves back to their routines with gusto. “It’s been a long time since so many miraculous holders have been concentrated in one place,” the turtle kwami added.

“They’re good kids, and they’re in the process of winning,” Master Fu said. Monsters and demons and foes didn’t start or stop with Hawkmoth, or the subsequent damage, or mystical powers. It was their nature to keep fighting. These kids grew up in the heart of a city which, for all it was romanticized, could be dangerous and unjust. “They’ve got fighting spirits. I can tell they’re scared. Heck, I’m scared. But their toughness is made out of faith, kindness, and hope more than fear.”

“You’ve chosen well,” Wayyz said, floating around the bookshelves, where decades if not centuries of information was bound up.

Master Fu shook his head. “The miraculous chooses the user. I’m only a guide. And what those kids did, it was all them.”

Wayzz looked like he wanted to argue the point. That it was a group effort and a lot of factors piled up. Among them, luck and strategy, but knew his host well enough that the conversation would only go around in circles. “They’re something else, alright,” he said instead.

\--

 

**Three months later**

Ladybug’s feet dangled over the edge of the roof of her parents’ bakery. The row of potted plants to her left was illuminated by the full moon. Chat Noir sat to her right. Two individual-sized cartons of ice cream were stacked behind them, empty. Ladybug-as-Marinette had prepared them earlier, leaving them in the cooler her parents tended to keep on the roof in the summer. It was the quietest time, an hour before the dawn, when even the party-goers had gone to bed, but before the rest of the world woke up. They sat shoulder-to-shoulder, Ladybug’s hand over Chat’s paw, taking in how quiet Paris was.

She had gotten into the habit of taking walks around Paris. As Marinette, as a pedestrian, as an anonymous civilian among the throngs of tourists, school children, and serious-looking adults in suits. Alya joked that Marinette should take advantage of walking around unrecognized while it was still the case. _After you become famous or, more likely, since no one knows what fashion designers actually look like, after a paparazzo puts two and two together when they finally get a shot of you being Adrien’s constant arm candy._

Admittedly, walking around with Adrien caused trouble at-times. Whispers, when people noticed he was on the department store billboard across the street. Stares, even when there was no advertising campaign in close proximity. She had gotten photographed once with Chlo (and cropped out, as the anonymous ‘friend’ when the tabloids had picked up on the mayor’s daughter), but had been able to dodge the “impending media circus,” as Alya called it. For now.

It was good to see flower shops on the corner and tiny, ‘hip’ cafes as everyone else did, during business hours, without an incumbent crisis to fix. _I’ll enjoy it while it lasts,_ was Marinette’s general attitude. She kept reminding herself of Tikki’s words. _That positive outlook will save your whole life._

There hadn’t been any akuma attacks. There hadn’t been any _Volpina_ attacks. After about a month of wondering, of waiting, the world seemed to have moved on to catalog the incident in newspapers (and their digital archives) and focus on more immediate issues.

It took the miraculous users a little while longer to let it go. Training their newest team member helped. Focusing on school, on the routine, did too.

 

Alya had yet to complete a full transformation with her miraculous. Trixx was healing, getting stronger by the day, and able to be fully corporeal for longer bouts. When the fox kwami was fully healed, Alya would be prepared.

When the time came, Sabrina would be ready too. Master Fu had taken Sabrina aside and asked her to consider becoming the next Guardian. She had agreed, but progress was deliberately slow. Marinette wasn’t given specifics, but the side-effects of become not just Wayzz holder, but the Guardian, had informed her choice.

 

Adrien had picked up the piano again. It had come as a shock to him too. He had been staring at the baby grand in his father’s mansion, the shiny black cover the maids kept gleaming, and had thought _oh, those made music._ He had impulsively unearthed the black and white keys, and struggled through 16 bars of an old Chopin he had played in a contest once. Adrien wasn’t taking lessons. (The once-a-week fencing lessons that were a new addition to his schedule were enough to keep him busy.) However, he was teaching Nino the basics. How to sight read, most importantly, but also formal theory and classical training. He parroted what he remembered his earliest instructors teaching him, and the DJ had taken to it.

 

Adrien loved physics and math because of how simple the world seemed from a textbook. Broken down into numbers and abstracts, every rule had a reason and a definite answer could always be worked out, if he thought about it for long enough. Life wasn’t as certain. He’d learned that dealing with his father in both forms and every battle Chat Noir had fought. It was probably why he liked video games so much too. Aside from their being built to entertain, the quests and battles that were played through would never be worse than what he dealt with regularly in real life. Characters’ equipment always worked and graphics of whatever destruction incurred was contained to the screen.

The sensation from a game controller, the sound from piano keys, the grip of a saber in his hands, calmed him. Talking about it with everyone calmed him. They were all working through the aftermath. There was no reset button, no instant fix, no lucky charm for it. Hawkmoth, Volpina, the quantic realm, had blasted fractures into his life as well as given it new substance. He had shifted to accommodate. He was patching up the bits that left him worse for wear with good vibes and new plans. The quantic squad had gone hiking as a group one weekend, just cause. They were planning a trip to London sometime during the summer. It would be nice to see the places they had been again, as normal tourists so they wouldn’t be only associated with battle.

School, homework, and studying seemed like old hat now. They’d been trained since they were six to have a certain work ethic. If what they were studying didn’t end up being a valuable skill, at least it could be a welcome distraction.

The nightmares lingered, but they were fewer and far between. The days were magnitudes easier.

Hawkmoth’s defeat had been like escaping a rampaging boar only to face the depths of a sheer cliff. They’d had no idea what was in store. They still didn’t, but indulgent thoughts suggested they could relax. (Yeah, they had hoped so the last time, too.) If recent events had taught them anything, it was that one of the most threatening, dangerous reactions was complacency.

 

“There is only so much you can give without losing the best part of yourself.” Plagg told him so whenever Adrien started pushing himself too hard, patrolling as Chat for too long, or too often. “You’re trying your best, and that’s enough. Great, I sound like Tikki now.”

 

There were few things in life he was certain about. Chat Noir turned his hand and intertwined his fingers with Ladybug’s. Ladybug, Marinette, everything about the girl next to him, was one of them. He knew, he’d known for years now. Even more so than Chat Noir and Ladybug, Marinette was a constant. A force around which the tides of his life turned. She was the realest thing in the world to him.

 

“What are you thinking about?” Ladybug asked as Chat Noir squeezed her hand. How long had they been on the roof, each lost in their own thoughts?

“Life. Love.” He paused theatrically. “You, Milady.”

Ladybug’s eyes crinkled up as she smiled. “You’re such a sap.” In a gentler voice, she added, “I think about you too. I’m always thinking about you. Worrying about you. It’s never going to change.”

Chat Noir dipped his head down, pressing their foreheads together. “What happens now?”

It was a loaded question. Thinking about the future was never easy, especially with so many variables to consider. But things were always changing, weren’t they? There was her internship and the semester to come and whatever else she would have to do to get her career started. Her parents, her friends, Tikki and the other kwami, patrols a couple times a week.

Staring into Chat, into _Adrien’s_ eyes, the future in its magnitude and its uncertainty seem incredibly simple.

“We’ll figure it out.”

As they kissed, Ladybug felt the world lighten behind her eyelids. They opened their eyes in time to watch the sunrise.

 


End file.
